Mass Effect 2: Legacies Unearthed
by BDM
Summary: Continuing the Alternate Universe series. The resurrection of Commander Kaelyn Shepard and attacks by the mysterious Collectors bring new mysteries for Alan Tyler to face. Are the Collectors connected to the Reapers? Who or what are the Precursors?
1. Prologue

**MASS EFFECT 2: LEGACIES UNEARTHED**

**Prologue: Voices in the Dark**

Emperor Xi Kedzuel Draconis leaned over the balcony railing, looking out at the artificial sun. A black square was slowly floating towards the sun, indicating that night was slowly coming to his hemisphere. This was Kethoi, a once natural planet, now hollowed out and transformed into a megastructure known as a Dyson Sphere. It was the only way to sustain the population due to the ecological damage the Precursors had done to it. Transforming their homeworld into a massive colony ship caused the weather on the surface to become arid, the land to turn into an endless, nearly-uninhabitable desert. Their technology could correct the damage easily once they found a system to stay in, but right now they were not in a star system; they were out in the middle of nowhere.

The interior was luscious with thick forests, deserts, oceans, tundras, lakes, and rivers. So, for now, it did not matter if they were near a star system; living under the surface of their planet was fine. That said, there was a good reason why they could not get to another star system; the propulsion system had broken down again. The Precursors were the most advanced species of the universe, having the access to the Great Array; however, they were having difficulties in repairing their own technology. Their resources were thinning, caused by wars they fought over the course of 25 thousand years. These wars were caused by Kedzuel's predecessor, Emperor Cerenath Khan Draconis. Khan had become so drunk with power after he successfully banished King Ghidorah nearly 80 thousand years ago, that he went on a planetary conquering binge in the Andromeda Galaxy. Every planet was taken over by Khan, sentient beings were enslaved, and the species of Precursors, who were once noble guardians, became evil dictators, particularly his own race the Blitzardi. Kedzuel, along with a few other rebels, struck out against Khan and took him down, with Kedzuel killing his evil uncle in the process. Khan managed to get the last laugh in the end, taking with him the knowledge the Precursors needed to do their job of banishing Abominations back to the Far Realm. His death caused much damage to the Precursors as a whole and it left them crippled. Kedzuel, however, was strong enough to keep vengeful aliens from taking over his people after Khan's death, but it cost them even more resources. And so, they were stuck. They still had their godly ships, they had much of their technology, but they lacked their resources. Khan's wars had mined out many planets and Andromeda was an enormous galaxy. Kedzuel only hoped to get the drives fixed enough to make a jump to another neighbouring galaxy just to begin mining since he was informed of possible mining areas.

"Your Majesty," began a voice from behind him.

Kedzuel turned around.

"Sire, Drive 3's conductor has burnt out," began a Lengodo technician. "We're not even getting a firing from it. Just sparks."

"Well, this is wonderful news," said Kedzuel. "So, again, we're stuck out here. Makes me wonder if we should just abandon Kethoi all together, get in our ships and leave."

"Good luck with that, sire," said the technician. "Even your mighty _Shi'Lithra_ still needs an overhaul. The auxiliary control regulator in the FTL drive needs to be upgraded, and the psionic relay interface still needs to be recalibrated. You are not going anywhere. Similar issues can be said for the other fleet ships, cargo ships, and civilian passenger ships."

"Lovely," said Kedzuel. "Just lovely. At least we can still grow our own food even if we can't move an inch."

"There is good news, the rotation balancer is still operating within Kethoi," said the technician.

"Can't move the planet, but we can still spin it," said Kedzuel. "Good enough. If we get one working ship going, send that ship to the nearest mining planet."

"Yes, sir," she bowed and backed away, returning to her work.

He sighed and leaned over the railing again, lowering his head.

"Khan's punishing me for doing the right thing," he whispered. His pointed ear roved around when he heard another pair of footsteps coming towards him.

"Your ship still broken?"

"Nercine," said Kedzuel. He leaned up to find Grand Duke Nercine Draconis, his sister, leaning up against a pillar. Though she was female, she held a masculine title. Titles among the Precursors did not mean the same as they did for species like humans. Nercine was the head of the household, and second in command to Emperor Kedzuel. Because of her ruling position, she was called Grand Duke. If she were to marry, her husband would take on the title of Duchess, which was a spouse title that held little to no power among the Blitzardi. Her status of second-in-command allowed her to take on the temporary title of Emperor when Kedzuel was away and because Blitzardi were perfect shape-shifters, she could even make herself look exactly like him and even sound exactly like him to fool others.

"Yes, my ship is still broken," said Kedzuel. "How's your little contact back on Erde-Tyrene?"

"Malcho?" she asked. "Confused. But he is happy he's able to get his memory back. They faced a Reaper, Kedzuel."

"Who?"

"Someone called Sovereign," she said. "A Vanguard. They managed to stop him from activating the Citadel and they destroyed him. But I suspect that this will not keep the Reapers from returning to their galaxy. It may take them a while, but they will get there. They're already moving." She came close to him. "We shouldn't have abandoned them."

"That was our uncle's fault!" Kedzuel shouted. "He wanted to leave. He felt that they could handle it."

"Just because we showed them how to use our technology does not mean they know everything," said Nercine. "In fact we don't know everything. Khan was the last Emperor to have the power to banish the Reapers and their Demon Progenitor. With his death, we've lost that."

Kedzuel let loose a snort, crossing his arms. He began to recall just what Khan had said before Kedzuel delivered the fatal strike. Khan mocked him because the power that he had, he would never show Kedzuel. Khan did not want to show that power to anyone; he wanted to keep it to himself so that the whole universe would be dependant upon him. Kedzuel knew that was not how the Array wanted it. The Array was designed to be shared knowledge. No one being was supposed to covet such abilities, especially when it pertained to King Ghidorah's demise.

"He never wanted to show me anyway," said Kedzuel. "That ability was supposed to be passed down, but he prevented it. He corrupted the Array and prevented that access. Now, because of his corruption, we can barely fix our technology. We have to rely on ancient relics from 2 billion years ago just to repair what we have now."

"The Array must be repaired," said Nercine. "Then we can help them."

"We have to help ourselves first," said Kedzuel. "They'll be fine without us for now."

"There is some hope," said Nercine. "The Array is being repaired. Malcho is doing it."

"You taught him well," said Kedzuel, smiling. He glanced back up at the artificial sun, watching that black square slowly move over it, finally obscuring it. The lights of the cities on the opposite surface gave the artificial night a star-lit sky. "At least we have the knowledge to keep the sun going. That much we can do."

"You want to go back to our home galaxy as much as I do," said Nercine.

"It's the right thing to do," said Kedzuel. "But not to interfere with their lives. If we do, we would be doing more damage than King Ghidorah would."

Nercine lowered her head and took in a deep breath.

"You want to return to Malcho," said Kedzuel. "I want to do the job that I was supposed to do when I took up the throne. When we get enough resources, we can return."

"And when will that be?"

"Within the next three years," said Kedzuel. "Luckily we have planets with materials that can be refined, just that what we can refine isn't in vast quantities."

"Kedzuel," she began. "The sooner we can get back there, the better. They need us. And we need them. If we save them, then they can help us in return."

Kedzuel walked over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder: "Glad I've got you at my side, Nercine. You're right. We'll scratch their backs, and they'll scratch ours. After all, nothing is for free."

The two leaned out over the railing to stare up at the artificial night sky.

0

Miranda Lawson stood, admiring the enormous display in front of her. This imager could be programmed to display almost anything imaginable, and the display reached up to an extremely high ceiling, wrapping all around the room. Currently it was set to display a dying star, the centre of it still glowing with a brilliant fiery red while the rest of it took a cold blue appearance. The stars stretched all around the room, as if the chamber was floating serenely in the void.

She had always liked this room, and didn't get many opportunities to step into it; in spite of being the Illusive Man's most trusted lieutenant, she knew very little about him. No-one alive today did. His title was very appropriate; as far as so many were concerned, he was nothing more than an illusion, a mirage that didn't exist. An extraordinarily small number of people ever got to speak to him face-to-face, and Miranda felt proud to be one of the privileged few. She brushed her long black hair out of her eyes, standing in her skin-tight black-and-white Cerberus uniform, thinking over the events of the past month. One name was on her mind right now, as it was in the mind of her employer.

"Shepard did everything right," she said, her accent betraying her Australian roots. "More than we could have hoped for. Saving the Citadel, even saving the Council... Humanity has the trust of the entire galaxy..." She half-turned to look back at her employer, her expression grim. "And still it's not enough."

The Illusive Man reclined in his large chair, dressed in an immaculate dark suit and his greying hair neatly styled. He tapped his cigarette on the end of an ashtray on the arm of his chair, shaking off the excess ash. His chair was surrounded by holographic displays, feeding reams of information to him. Information was his weapon, and he knew he needed constant access to it to remain ahead in the proverbial chess game he was playing with so many adversaries.

"Our sacrifices have earned the Council's gratitude," he said, his voice carrying hints of a Southern-State drawl, "but Shepard remains our best hope."

"But they're sending her to fight Geth," Miranda scoffed, walking through one of the displays towards the Illusive Man's chair. "Geth! We both know they're not the real threat. The Reapers are still out there."

"And it's up to us to stop them," the Illusive Man purred, as he took a long drag from his cigarette. His father had always said to him to savour the things he loved now, as life was too short, and the cigarette smoke had always had a calming effect on him, allowing him to always focus.

"The Council will never trust Cerberus," Miranda said bitterly. "Nor will the UNSC. They'll never accept our help, even after everything humanity has accomplished and especially not after what happened to Lord Hood."

"An unfortunate incident, to be sure," said the Illusive Man. "Terrance Hood was one of the finest examples of humanity who had ever lived or probably will ever live. I have no greater regrets than the moment I had to make that call."

"But Shepard..." Miranda mused. "They'll follow her. She's a hero, a bloody icon. But she's just one woman. If we lose Shepard, humanity might well follow."

"Then see to it that we don't lose her," said the Illusive Man, calmly but firmly, as he stubbed out his cigarette. His glowing blue eyes shone in the semi-darkness of the cavernous office. Miranda had often wondered why the cybernetic implants that gave his eyes that unnatural glow had been necessary, but had learned long ago that it was not wise to pry into her employer's past.

Both continued to watch the displays before them, gathering as much intelligence as they could. They knew the stakes. They had memorised the names of every ship, every human that had sacrificed themselves to save the Council from Sovereign one month ago, and they knew that they owed it to those valiant humans to find a way to crush the greatest threat the galaxy had ever known. This threat was known only as the Reapers; enormous sentient machines, spawned by an intelligence from beyond the boundaries of reality, which had destroyed countless galactic civilisations, perhaps since the universe was first formed. Their last invasion, taking place roughly 40,000 years ago, had destroyed the Forerunners, the advanced civilisation who had stolen the knowledge of Technomancy away from the human race.

Their tremendous sacrifice earned humanity entry into the Council, yet the aliens had made no public acknowledgement of the Reapers' existence, presumably to avoid creating wide-spread panic. Even among aliens, the cover-ups always remained the same. Perhaps they were more human than either Miranda or the Illusive Man gave them credit for. In order to silence the rumours, the Council had dispatched Commander Kaelyn Shepard, the first human Spectre and their saviour, to dispose of the last remaining pockets of resistance by the Geth, the advanced AI civilisation that had assisted the rogue Spectre, Saren Arterius, in almost bringing the Reapers back from the void beyond the galaxy and resuming their Cycle of Extinction. Cerberus themselves had made efforts to create expendable shock troopers to fight the coming threat, efforts which had made them many enemies. Chief among those enemies was Kiryuu Knight, who even now was doggedly pursuing any leads he could find that would lead him to the heart of Cerberus.

The Illusive Man smiled at this. Cerberus had covered its tracks well; after all, they were created by the United Nations Space Command, so they knew what to expect from the most powerful AI ever created. It would be far too risky to try to take him down directly, but even if it was easy the Illusive Man wanted to keep this game going for as long as he could. His battle of wits with Kiryuu Knight was most enjoyable.

The biggest irony of it all, however, was that both he and Miranda knew that they were all essentially on the same side at the end of the day. For all of them, friends and enemies alike, who knew the truth of the Reapers, their search for answers was only just beginning.


	2. Wreckage

**Wreckage**

After humanity had first opened its embassy on the Citadel five years ago, the peoples of Earth had soon found their technology rapidly becoming obsolete. Within the five years since then many of their ships had been upgraded to incorporate new slip-space technology, allowing them to take advantage of the Mass Relay network. It had not been until very recently that the governments of Earth, and indeed the Council, had learned the true origin of this technology, which for a long time they had mistakenly believed to be created by the Forerunners tens of thousands of years ago. Even knowing the terrible source of this technology, however, they knew that they were essentially stuck with it; without the Relay Network journeys from one part of the galaxy to the other would take months or even years instead of seconds. Most of the galaxy had not been told of the truth behind the technology; the Council were trying to keep things going as normally as possible, in spite of their own attempts to prepare for what seemed inevitable, and a great many races who had not been involved at the battle of the Citadel were still in the dark. The truth was too horrifying to think about.

One ship that was not in any hurry to advance with the times, however, was the Firefly-class transport ship _Serenity_. This small cargo carrier, the shape of which looked like an odd cross between a bird and an insect, had been considered out-of-date for a very long time, yet it had been built for reliability, and now upgraded with Sangheili slip-space technology it was still on an even footing with any ship constructed in the present age, as long as there was a steady influx of spare parts.

The ship was now on its way back from a supply run to Palaven, the home planet of the Turians. The ship's crew sometimes took on cargo-run contracts, took on passengers and even participated in a few less-than-legal activities to get some extra credits in. Things had been quiet for them and for the Sangheili fleet that they flew with, the Fleet Shadow of Fury, so they could afford to find ways to keep themselves busy.

On the bridge sat Alistair, the green-skinned, griffin-like gargoyle who was the ship's First Mate. He reclined in his chair, his feet propped up on the co-pilot's console. Things had been too quiet for his liking over the past month; it seemed to him that not enough time had been spent looking for a way to stop the Reapers, should those creatures return. Everyone in the fleet felt the same way, especially as they had suffered personal loss at the hands of the Reapers. He tried to keep that apprehension buried deep down, and concentrated on the here and now; right now he was bored out of his mind. He stared out at the immense field of stars, shining in the blackness of space.

"I spy with my little eye," he suddenly said with his vague Cockney accent, "something beginning with B."

"Black," a quiet voice spoke up from the pilot's console. The voice belonged to Bishop, the android pilot of the _Serenity_. He resembled a pale-skinned human male with lanky brown hair and an aged face. He kept his hands on the steering column, guiding the ship gently to the nearest relay back to the Urs system. 'The Black' was the slang term that many used to refer to the vast void of space.

"How'd you know that?" asked Alistair.

"It was the same answer you were looking for last time you played," said Bishop, his voice betraying not one hint of irritation. "And the time before that."

"I'd go for something else," shrugged Alistair, "but I can never remember the star names. Thank whatever gods there are that all the charting's been done for me in the nav systems."

"What if you didn't have the nav system, though?" asked Bishop, in a tone that was uncharacteristically wry. "It would be like being on a ship a thousand years ago on Earth with no map or compass. If it were not for the skill to navigate by the stars alone, then civilisation as we know it would not exist."

"That's all well and good," retorted Alistair. "There are so many stars out there now though that we need computers to remember them all." He then remembered who he was talking to and quickly looked apologetic. "Uh, no offence."

"None taken," said Bishop. "Just don't let Call catch you saying things like that; she's not as used to your idiosyncrasies as I am."

Alistair sighed. Call was the other android crew member, and the ship's engineer. Thinking about her made him think about the changes to the crew over the past year, something which was an awkward subject for him.

"This ship feels a lot emptier now," he said suddenly. "What with José and Rachel going back to Earth to raise a family. This ship doesn't feel right without them."

"Do you not think much of Dorva and Call?" asked Bishop. Dorva was a Sangheili crew member whose appointment as the ship's new gunnery chief was not popular, especially after his past was taken into account.

"Dorva?" Alistair snorted. "Look, I'm all for second chances, but he's also the reason Telek hardly speaks to us now. It's like he took Kiryuu's placement of him with us as a personal insult. As for Call... Honestly, she scares me. It's like she really wants to delude herself into believing she's human; she looks like she's going to tear your arm off if you ask her to plug in to the systems to run a diagnosis."

"I wish I had an explanation for that," said Bishop. "All AIs seem to inherit different quirks from the Source. This may be a gross stereotype, but I find that female AIs tend to be more emotional than male AIs, though I must profess I am not entirely sure how or why AIs are assigned genders in the first place."

"How ironic," said Alistair. "The one guy on the ship we turn to for knowledge, and he doesn't know himself."

"I'd like to think that I was more than an information repository, after six years of working together," said Bishop.

"Alright, mate, keep your wig on," said Alistair. "What's been up with you lately? You're not usually so snippy."

"I've just had a lot on my mind," said Bishop, rather evasively. "I apologise."

"Uh-huh..." Alistair replied, dubiously. He had noticed that Bishop had been behaving somewhat strangely over the last few days; he had become noticeably more irritable and erratic. Having known Bishop for the past five years he was getting concerned, but wasn't sure if he should bring the subject up.

All of a sudden there was a loud beeping noise coming from the console which caught Alistair by surprise. He almost toppled off his chair as he moved to examine the console. The beeping was coming from the communicator, indicating a transmission on the emergency UNSC bandwidth. They hadn't received any such transmission for a long time, so it was something of a surprise to hear it now.

"I don't believe this..." breathed Alistair. He pressed a few buttons and turned several dials, and soon the bridge was filled with static. Alistair continued to manipulate the controls, trying to clarify the signal, but nothing seemed to work.

"Something must have been trying to jam the signal," said Bishop. "Let me see if I can retrieve anything..."

Bishop reached below the pilot's console and pulled a small connecting wire out. Alistair averted his eyes as the android peeled back part of his forearm and plugged the wire into a small port inside. His eyes closed and he reclined as he interfaced with the _Serenity_'s systems. This was not something that Bishop normally had to do due to his expertise at interfacing with the ship's systems, but this occasion called for a deeper connection in order to piece together the data. Moments later, Alistair was rather unnerved to hear a voice coming from Bishop's mouth; an urgent voice which wasn't his own and surrounded by explosions in the background:

"_Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is UNSCSV Normandy! We've suffered heavy damage from an unknown enemy!"_

Bishop suddenly lurched forward, his eyes snapping open. He pulled the cord out of his arm as Alistair moved over to him.

"That's it..." Bishop gasped. "That's all it says over and over. It must have been all they were able to send."

"Holy shit..." Alistair gasped. He, like everyone else on the ship and many in the galaxy, recognised the name '_Normandy_'. If something had happened to the crew of that famous ship then they were all in serious trouble. He reached over to the intercom and activated it.

"Captain, better get your arse to the bridge on the double!" he said urgently. "You're gonna want to hear what's just come through!"

A few moments later there was the sound of running footsteps in the hall behind the bridge, and the captain of the ship emerged through the door. Alan Tyler had been the captain of the _Serenity_ for nearly six years. Covered in grey, pebbly scales, he looked like a bizarre cross between a human and a reptile. He turned his head to look between Alistair and Bishop, his long brown hair looking rather bedraggled.

"I'm here, I'm here," he groaned in a slight Yorkshire accent. "What's happened?"

"Bishop, can you replay the message?" Alistair asked. The android nodded, and soon he had repeated the same message from the _Normandy_ as Alistair had heard. Upon hearing it, Alan's face became very grave.

"I recognise Joker's voice..." he said. Jeff 'Joker' Moreau was the disabled pilot of the hyper-advanced _Normandy_ warship. "If something's been able to take down the _Normandy_, of all things, then we're all in trouble. Bishop, any way to trace the signal to its origin?"

"That's what I've been trying to do, Captain," said Bishop. "The transmission is badly broken-up, but I think I can recover enough to piece together the approximate location of the origin." He re-attached himself to the console and began to manipulate the controls, the displays showing all manner of star charts. Alan really didn't know what they would do without Bishop; he had saved their lives many times over the last five years. Finally, there was a beeping noise from the console, and a set of crosshairs fixed themselves on a point in the Omega Nebula.

"That's the best I can do," said Bishop. "The signal was transmitted from the Amada System in the Omega Nebula."

"That's pretty deep in the Terminus Systems," said Alan. "Alliance types aren't welcome in there. If it weren't for the ship's stealth technology they'd never have gotten in there without some conflict or other breaking out."

"What do you think we should do, Captain?" asked Bishop. "I was unable to ascertain how long ago the transmission was sent. For all we know, the crew may already be dead and the attackers long gone."

"Of course there's also the fact that we're not equipped to go up against anything should the attackers still be there," said Alistair in a snarky tone. "Just throwing that out there."

"We can't just sit here and do nothing though," said Alan. "We carry no markings on our ship; we can still pass for anonymous traders." At this point, Alan was glad that he had declined to have Calico Jack's Jolly Roger emblazoned on his ship, like the other ships that flew in the Fleet Shadow of Fury. He wasn't sure how welcome Sangheili markings would be around those in the Terminus Systems should any patrols come across them.

"Bishop," he said, "set a course for the Amada System. We're gonna go take a look. If we move quickly and quietly we should be able to avoid attracting attention. Still, to be on the safe side..." He moved to the co-pilot's console and hailed the _Divine Journey_, one of the Sangheili warships in the Fleet Shadow of Fury. Within seconds the Sangheili face of the Shipmaster, Cujo 'Mentatal, appeared on one of the screens.

"_Alan?"_ said Cujo. _"We weren't expecting you to rejoin the fleet for another two days. What's happened?"_

"Cujo," said Alan, "I need you to rendezvous with the _Serenity_ at the coordinates Bishop is sending you now." Taking his cue, Bishop transmitted the coordinates of the Amada System to the _Divine Journey_. "Go in cloaked."

"_Ah, I see what you mean,"_ said Cujo, his brow furrowing as he examined his monitors. _"That's pretty deep in the Terminus Systems. I doubt we'll be welcome there after our time with the Covenant. What are you expecting to find there?"_

"The _Normandy_ under attack from some unknown ship," said Alan gravely. "If the worst comes to the worst, somebody's got to sweep for survivors."

"_I see,"_ said Cujo. _"Luckily Telek doesn't need me for anything right now. I'll meet you there."_ With that, they disconnected the channel.

"You know what to do next, Bishop," said Alan.

"Aye-aye, Captain," Bishop replied. "Plotting a relay course for the Amada System."

"I wish we didn't have to use those relays," Alan groaned. "I don't like the idea of my ship using King Ghidorah's own energy."

"None of us do," said Alistair. "Right now though, we've got no choice."

The fastest way to reach the nearest Mass Relay was through slip-space, so Bishop initiated the _Serenity_'s slip-space drive, and soon the ship was speeding through the swirling slip-space portal. Alan looked out of the window as they sped down the portal.

"You know," he said idly, "every time I see slip-space I keep expecting to see a little blue box whizzing past."

"What are you prattling on about now?" asked Alistair huffily.

"Nothing," shrugged Alan. "I keep forgetting that everything I know's from well before your time."

"Yeah, we got that the first thousand times," said Alistair. "If you'll let me speak frankly, do us a favour and shut up about it."

"Trying to fill in for José, are you?" Alan asked wryly. Alistair couldn't think of a reply, but now looked highly flustered.

0

Half an hour later, the _Serenity_ was entering the Amada System, named after the Egyptian Temple of Amada. The system consisted of five planets in total. Alan still didn't like the idea of being in the Terminus Systems, especially being so close to Omega, an asteroid which was reputed to be a pit-stop for all manner of slavers and pirates. As soon as they had arrived Bishop had begun to initiate scans for any further transmissions from the stricken _Normandy_. The ship was not answering any hailing, and it took a while before any kind of transmission was received.

"I'm picking up what sounds like several emergency beacons," said Bishop. "If I had to guess, I would say that they are coming from escape pods."

"You getting this, Cujo?" asked Alan.

"_We are, Alan,"_ Cujo's voice replied. _"It looks like they're coming from close to the fourth planet, Alchera. It looks like they've been out here several hours tops."_

"Right, we'll go check out Alchera," said Alan. "It's a good bet that if there's anything to find, it won't be far from the escape pods. You track down the pods and find out how many survived."

"_I never thought I'd see the day when I was your errand boy,"_ said Cujo wryly. _"Good luck finding anything on Alchera. It's a frozen ball of ice, judging by the last time anyone checked."_

"I'll remember my thermals," replied Alan. "We'll rendezvous above Alchera when we're all finished."

"_Understood,"_ replied Cujo, as he signed off.

Moments later, the _Serenity_ was in orbit above the icy-looking blue and white sphere of Alchera. Bishop initiated a scan of the planet's surface, and soon a steady rhythmic chiming could be heard coming from the ship's speakers.

"Sounds like an emergency beacon," said Bishop. "It might be coming from the black box."

"So the _Normandy_ really did go down..."Alan said quietly. "We'll have to wait for word from Cujo to find out how many survived. In the meantime, we might as well go see what can be salvaged."

"Hold it..." said Bishop. "I'm picking up a ship on the sensors, down on the planet's surface. Initial outline readings suggest it to be..." He paused, looking grim. "If I'm reading this right, it's a Geth ship down there."

"One Geth ship couldn't have taken down the _Normandy_," said Alistair. "Might be a scavenger party, or maybe they're down there to mop up any survivors."

"Geth aren't going to deter me," said Alan, his teeth gritted and reaching for the ship's intercom. "Call, get yourself prepped with an environment suit. We're heading out on the surface."

"You sure Call will be enough?" asked Alistair. "You know that the Geth are good shots and perfect assassins, right?"

"I'll need Call's help to access the black box," said Alan. "Besides, we killed hundreds of Geth when Saren was running around trying to bring the Reapers on our heads. I know what to expect now. Take us down to that beacon."

"Understood, Captain," said Bishop. Within minutes the ship was buffeted by icy winds as it entered the wintry atmosphere of Alchera. Snow was flung all around the ship, making it hard to see where they were supposed to be flying. Bishop practically had to wrestle the steering column to keep the ship flying straight. Eventually the crew caught sight of the frozen landscape below, white-over with snow and unfathomable layers of ice.

It wasn't long before the crew got their first look at the final crash site of the _Normandy SR-1_. The sleek, hyper-advanced frigate had been torn apart; pieces of it were scattered over a wide area. The _Serenity_ landed on the clearest patch of ground that Bishop could find and soon both Alan and Call were stepping out of the airlock in their environment suits. Alan was wearing his hardsuit, which doubled as combat armour; it was a gleaming silver colour and the helmet was shaped like a lizard's head with amber eye-screens. Call, the shorter of the two, was wearing a standard environment suit. She peered around her nervously, backing away as snow was thrown all around them by the _Serenity_'s jets, as the ship took off to circle the area.

"I swear I can feel the cold through my suit," Call then said, folding her arms.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd feel the cold," said Alan, without thinking about what it was he was saying. It was when he felt something solid hit his back that he spun around to see Call. She had thrown a snowball at him, and was now scowling at him with her dark brown eyes.

"Any more cracks about what I am and you'll have to find a new engineer," she spat.

"Okay, okay, bad joke," Alan said, exasperated and throwing his arms up in surrender. "Let's just do what we came here to do and get going before the Geth come looking for us."

Wandering around the crash site, it became apparent to Alan that it was close to a miracle that anyone had survived the attack at all. Whoever had done this had been utterly thorough and brutal, not to mention having extraordinarily powerful weaponry. They had to have been able to catch the ship's crew completely off-guard to do this much damage. Propped against a rocky outcrop was a large piece of the hull, with the ship's name now scratched and burned by the blast. Other parts of the ship could be seen scattered about, including the sleeping pods and the mess area. Buried amongst a bunch of rocks, Alan and Call saw a wrecked podium from the command deck, which Alan recognised as once having a holographic map of the entire Milky Way galaxy. The prototype ground vehicle known as the Mako was a smoking heap of ruined metal.

"This is unbelievable," breathed Call. "I'm amazed that anybody survived."

Close to the galaxy map, Alan saw a datapad lying half-buried in the snow. Picking it up and switching it on, he saw that it had once belonged to Pressly, the navigator on the ship. As he read through it, he saw entries in Pressly's journal; while most of it was heavily damaged, some parts remained intact:

"_-spoke to the Commander about this. I hate all these damned aliens aboard the UNSC's most advanced warship. I just don't trust them. Especially that damned Asari. And a Quarian! Not to mention a Turian and a Krogan! What does Shepard think this is, a zoo?" _

Alan had not had much of a chance to speak to Pressly during his brief time on the _Normandy_ while hunting Saren, and he had no idea that the man had been so anti-alien. Thirty years of war against the Covenant had left a lot of humanity mistrusting of aliens, even after they were accepted onto the Citadel. Some old wounds never healed. Pressly's next entry, however, was softer in tone:

"_-with the Quarian. It seems she's on some Pilgrimage, trying to improve the lot of her home ship. I can understand that. I wouldn't let her babysit my children or anything, but if she has to be on board I suppose that's not too bad."_

Pressly's final entry, taken only a few days ago, was considerably warmer:

"_-for a while now, and I'm taking a look back at past entries in this journal. I can't believe how blind I was at the time. I came onto this ship firmly believing that humanity was on its own in the galaxy. Then Shepard brought all these aliens on board, and there's no way we could have accomplished what we did without them. I'm proud to say that I would die for this crew, regardless of what world they were born on."_

Alan sighed, putting the datapad back onto the ground. There didn't seem to be much sense in taking it back with them, aside from sentimentality. He peered out across the frozen plain, seeing the wreckage scattered about. Seeing a thin section that looked like it might have been the corridor to the bridge, he marched through the snow towards it, Call running to keep up.

"Are you alright, Captain?" asked Call. "You look a bit distracted."

"I'm fine, Call," Alan replied. "It's just... Sometimes I have nightmares of this happening to the _Serenity_, and it got me thinking of what happened to Mitsu and Wago..."

Mitsu 'Kimam and Wago 'Tawun were Shipmasters in the Fleet Shadow of Fury. They had been killed, and their ships had been destroyed, by Sovereign only a month ago. Dozens of crewmen had also lost their lives on that fateful day. The fleet was still trying to recover from the damage, but deep down they knew that nothing could replace the souls of those people or ships. Call said nothing; she was a relatively recent addition to the fleet and thus didn't feel as close to them as Alan was, and she had never been very good at offering words of comfort.

The two of them reached the oval-shaped corridor and walked carefully down it. Somehow the corridor was still attached to the bridge, even though the controls were in utter disarray. The plexiglass on the front of the ship had been smashed, allowing the snow to blow in from outside and cover the smashed control panels and the pilot's chair.

"What a mess..." Alan breathed. "Hard to believe only a day ago that Joker would have been sat right there, in his element." He pointed at the large pilot's chair.

"And if this ship is anything like other UNSC vessels," said Call, "the black box will be somewhere underneath the main console." She turned to look back at Alan. "I suppose you want me to get it, do you?"

"If you would be so kind," Alan replied wryly. "I'll keep an eye on things outside. Don't forget that Geth ship is probably still here; I'm surprised we haven't run into any."

Call shrugged and set to work underneath the control panel, trying to dislodge the black box from its very secure holdings. Alan stepped back outside into the wind and snow, but there wasn't much to see now. He looked up into the sky, seeing a luminescent green aurora in the night sky. He had never seen the aurora on Earth before, and he thought there was something highly ironic in having to go all the way to an alien planet to see it.

Then he saw something that made him tense. It had only been for a fleeting moment, but he had definitely seen something that wasn't there before. It had been a bright dot, like a small flashlight, coming from a large clump of rocks on the other side of the clearing, close to an enormous icy chasm. The light darted behind the rock as soon as Alan had seen it, but just that second's glimpse had told Alan all that he needed to know.

He quickly pulled his silver Technomantic revolver out from its holster, and switched it to Inferno mode. The barrel lit up with small red lights as Alan aimed slightly to the side of the rocks and fired, the recoil almost throwing the gun out of his arms. A ball of pure fire shot out of the barrel and sped towards the rocks, before suddenly exploding in a large fireball, lighting up the area and reducing the snow caught in the blast into water.

Suddenly a figure jumped out from behind the rocks, diving out of the blast radius. The thin and spindly-looking figure quickly picked itself up and tried to run to the other side of the clearing. Alan darted after him as Call emerged from the wreckage, now carrying the _Normandy_'s flight recorder. She moved to follow as quickly as she could.

Alan switched his revolver to fire normal shots as he pursued the fleeing stranger towards the galaxy map's console. Taking careful aim, he fired several shots as the stranger tried to dive for cover. One shot caught him right in the torso, going straight through the body and leaving a large hole that could be seen through. As the figure collapsed into the snow, such an injury would kill any organic outright, but Alan knew that he was dealing with no organic...

As he ran up to the figure, he saw instantly that his suspicions were confirmed. The figure struggling to pull itself to its feet, he now saw that it was a humanoid-shaped robot, made of a grey metal colour and thick cable for joints. There was now a large hole on the right-hand side of the torso, revealing lit cables inside like organs. An assault rifle and sniper rifle were attached to its back. It tried to pull itself back onto its feet, but Alan marched over and readied his gun.

"You've got a date with the scrap-heap!" he snarled, pointing his gun straight at the robot's head. All of a sudden it rolled over to face Alan, raising its arms in a gesture of surrender. Its single lit optic, the one thing which constituted a head, peered intently at him (if robots could indeed peer intently). It was strange enough that a Geth drone was surrendering, but then Alan saw was that this drone had a series of metal plates around the optic that moved, almost as if it had tried to replicate human eyebrows. The most chilling sight of all was on the chest and right arm, where Alan saw scraps from the chest-plate and shoulder-pieces of black and red armour, and just above the hole he had created Alan saw the N7 insignia. This armour was of a type used by UNSC Special Forces marines, like Commander Shepard.

"Tyler-Captain," the Geth suddenly said, in a robotic voice with an odd clicking quality to it. Alan was shocked by this; no Geth had ever spoken properly to his knowledge, just made an odd stuttering sound. Paralysed with shock, Alan almost forgot what it was he was looking at; he was sure that this thing had somehow been involved in the attack, and it had to have taken Shepard's armour from her body as some kind of battle trophy. He paused, his gun pointed at the Geth, wanting to shoot it but somehow not being able to do the deed.

"Captain!" Call suddenly called from right behind him. "What is it?" At the sight of the Geth she gasped. "I don't believe it..."

"Tyler-Captain," the Geth suddenly repeated, making Call jump even more. She looked between the Geth, laying on the floor in an apparent mockery of human subjugation, and Alan stood over it, his revolver still pointed right at its head.

"You..." Call said nervously, addressing the Geth. "You speak our language?"

"Geth normally communicate directly through electronic channels," the Geth replied. "Your aural method of communication is much less effective, but necessary in this instance."

"Well, if you can talk to us," Alan roared, "and you know who I am, then you'll know that I've been fighting your drones for a long time! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your electronic brains out!"

"We have never met," replied the Geth blankly.

"We've met other Geth," said Call.

"We have never met," replied the Geth again.

"Stop playing games with us!" Alan roared. "Your time's just run out!"

"Captain, wait!" said Call urgently, pushing Alan's arm down. "Maybe we should hear it out. Look; it's clearly surrendering! Is it your policy to shoot prisoners?"

"This thing isn't a living being!" Alan retorted. "Every other Geth I've met has tried to blow my brains out!"

"We are Geth, and we have not met," said the Geth.

"Shut it!" Alan shouted.

"Captain, wait!" Call pleaded again. "Look, I'm curious about what he means. No-one's ever been able to capture and interrogate a live Geth before. There could be something going on here that we didn't know before! Let's not decide one way or the other until we know what we're dealing with!"

Alan wondered if this was because Call felt some kind of attachment to the Geth, as they were an artificial intelligence much like herself. He had half a mind to just shoot the drone there and then, but he could not deny that this drone's behaviour was very unusual, and in any case he didn't know if he could afford to show signs of mistrust towards Call at this point. He trusted the judgement of all of his crew; why was it proving so difficult to trust Call now? In the end, however, his curiosity got the better of him, and he nodded to Call, though he still kept his gun raised.

"It's on your head if it tries anything," he said in a low tone. Call said nothing, but carefully approached the Geth, which turned its unblinking gaze upon her. The sound of tiny gears could be heard as its robotic eye focused.

"When you say 'we have not met', are you talking about the individual in front of us?" she asked.

"There are no individuals," replied the Geth. "We are all Geth. There are currently 1,183 programs within this mobile platform."

"But we've met other Geth," said Call. "Other mobile platforms that have all tried to kill us!"

"You speak of the heretics," replied the drone, the plates on the top of its head quivering. "The Geth who worship the Old Machines."

"'Old Machines'?" asked Call. "You mean the Reapers?"

"'Reaper'," droned the Geth. "A superstitious title given by organics. We call these entities the Old Machines. The heretics have declared war on organics in service of the Old Machines. They want their gods to forge their path. The Geth believe all sentient life should self-determinate. The heretics seek to take away that right."

"This is incredible..." breathed Call, turning to Alan. "Do you know what this means? It means that the Geth aren't our enemy! Not the actual Geth, anyway..."

"That's assuming he's telling the truth," muttered Alan.

"Geth see no purpose for lies and deception," the drone said. "We all know each other's thoughts. We are all in consensus that lying to potential allies would be counter-productive."

"Potential allies?" asked Alan. "Is that what brought you out here?"

"Yes," said the drone. "We have been searching for Shepard-Commander since the Battle of the Citadel."

Before Alan could question it any further, there was a sudden beeping from his commlink as he was hailed.

"_Captain, come in!"_ Alistair's voice suddenly said.

"What is it?" Alan asked, speaking into his commlink.

"_Captain, you've gotta get back here!"_ the gargoyle said, sounding panicked. _"Bishop just collapsed at his console!"_

"What?" Alan asked, dumbfounded. "He's not had so much as a virus in all the time we've known him. Any clue as to what's wrong?"

"_Hold on,"_ said Alistair. _"He's started to come around. He just keeps saying two words over and over... The Source. That's all I can get out of him."_

"Oh no..." Alan breathed. The Source was the originator of all AIs on Earth. After a certain time they entered stages of rampancy, marking the end of their lives. When their time was almost up they returned to the Source, their god, the one AI who had survived rampancy and was now the progenitor of them all...

"We're on our way back," said Alan urgently. "Contact Kiryuu and tell him to arrange a meeting place, somewhere as far away from the Council and the Orion Alliance as he can manage. We're getting an extra passenger, and we need as much secrecy as he can give us."

"_I see what you mean now,"_ said Alistair. _"Why all the secrecy though?"_

"I'll explain when we get back," said Alan. "Just get _Serenity_ prepped for departure right now. How good are you at flying her?"

"_A lot better than I was five years ago, mate,"_ said Alistair. _"Alright, I'll see what I can do, Captain. I'm making the call now. You get your arses back here before the Geth show up."_

"Roger," said Alan. As he signed off, he turned to Call. "He's in for one nasty shock," he groaned as he turned back to the Geth. "You, on your feet and come with us. I figure Kiryuu would want a few words with you."

"You would take us to see Knight-President?" asked the Geth, as it pushed itself to its feet. Its eyebrow-plates quivered inquisitively.

"We're rather pressed for time here," snapped Alan. "We don't have a lot of options. Try anything, though, and I'll poke a few more holes into you. We can continue our chat when we find Kiryuu."

"I'll try and set up additional firewalls on the _Serenity_, just in case," said Call. "Bishop's really better at this sort of thing than me though..." Alan noticed that, through her helmet, she now looked very nervous.

"Let's just get going," said Alan. "It sounds like Bishop doesn't have much time left."

With that, he marched the Geth in front of them, his weapon always remaining pointed at the drone's back as they trudged through the snow back to the _Serenity_. Once again Alan found himself facing a lot of questions and having few answers. He only hoped the _Normandy_'s black box and this Geth's testimony would clear things up.


	3. Pockets of Data

**Pockets of Data**

Kiryuu Knight had had a lot on his mind for the past month. The Battle of the Citadel, and the events leading up to it, had given him much more to think about, more worries that he constantly tried to hide. The threat of the Reapers and their monstrous creator had been postponed, and he was trying to use every moment of his time available to prepare for the impending invasion, for he was certain that it was inevitable.

He had felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he resigned from his position as ambassador to Earth on the Citadel, and had returned to his old company, the Utah Foundation of Bio-Organic Research. It was so much easier here than it was having to juggle intergalactic politics; he felt as if he could focus properly on his immediate tasks. The first, of course, was preparing for ways to fight the Reapers, and to this end he had been working with Soñador Malcho, chairman of Omak Technologies. The unexpected partnership had worked out well so far, though he knew that the methods Malcho was researching would get them all into trouble with the UNSC if they ever found out.

Secondly, he had been in active pursuit of any leads on Cerberus he could find. Ever since they had murdered Lord Terrance Hood, a hero of the Covenant War, to conceal the truth of their experiments, he had been especially determined to make sure the Illusive Man paid for his crimes. However, every lead he had followed was a dead-end; Cerberus knew what they were up against, and they had covered their tracks far too well. He found that it was getting increasingly difficult to not let the frustration show.

He had not been altogether surprised when Alan's call had come through, informing him of Bishop's condition. It was a day that he knew had to come sooner or later, as it did with all AIs that he created, but the whole process never got any easier. He had found it strange that Alan had asked him to arrange somewhere away from the UNSC's watchful eye, but he didn't like the thought of being too far away from Earth in case of any further developments. In the end, he had arranged to meet Alan at an outpost on Titan, the largest moon orbiting Saturn. It was a familiar site to them both; Kiryuu had been evacuated there once when it looked like a Covenant invasion of Earth was imminent. Alan had tried to make him choose somewhere else, but had caved in when it looked like Kiryuu wouldn't budge on the issue. Kiryuu mentioned that he had a way to guarantee them some privacy, and to carry this plan out he had enlisted Malcho's aid. He had to admit that he was curious as to what Alan was up to, and what required all the secrecy.

So it was that, a few hours later, Kiryuu and Malcho both walked into the hangar as the _Serenity_ landed. Malcho, who looked like a man with mocha-coloured skin, black hair and smart business suit turned to look at the bio-mechanical dinosaur.

"You think the boy's found anything on those Cerberus pendejos?" he asked.

"If he has, I would be very surprised," said Kiryuu. "If I can't find anything, then I don't expect any of our Shadowrunners to have done so. After all this time, I'm not getting my hopes up." He ran a claw through his dreadlocks. "What of your own research? What can you tell me about that?"

"No more than I could the last time you asked," replied Malcho. "Progress is going slower than I anticipated. It is better than I feared, but worse than I hoped. It will still be time before we can have a Technomantic vessel ready; I only hope it will be ready before the Reapers arrive. If we can have just one vessel that doesn't use eezo, a Technomantic vessel at that, we might have a chance."

"Just be careful about it," said Kiryuu. "Don't forget that you're already breaking several laws to pursue this project; I can't help you if the UNSC realises what you're up to, especially as my cells are being used."

"Even with all at my disposal," Malcho sighed, "I'm still looking at a matter of years rather than months to finish the completion of this project. I don't know if I can keep it under wraps for that long."

"Nothing worth doing is easy," said Kiryuu. He looked towards the _Serenity_ as the cargo ramp lowered and Alan marched towards them. "Now let's see what sort of mess my grandson is in now." The pair of them approached the mutant, who was looking around him, unhappy.

"I asked for somewhere away from the UNSC, Kiryuu," he said darkly, glancing over at Malcho. "And no uninvited guests."

"I need no invitation, puto," Malcho snapped. "Your grandfather believes I can help in whatever crackpot scheme you have dragged us into, but if you'd rather I took my business elsewhere..."

"Alright, fine," snarled Alan, throwing his arms up in surrender. "I've got to tell you though, that if either of you blab about what I have to show you, then come Hell or high water I'll make you suffer for it."

"I'd like to see you try," Malcho smirked. "If it means that much to you though, then you have my word."

"I've never seen you so agitated, Alan," said Kiryuu. "What requires so much secrecy?"

"Not here," said Alan quietly. "On the ship. Oh, and put up additional firewalls." With that, he motioned for them to follow as he walked straight back to the _Serenity_. Kiryuu motioned for the staff in the hangar to remain at their posts, then he and Malcho looked at each other as they followed Alan. They knew that they could easily pull the answers out of Alan's head, but they knew how much he hated that, and they had the feeling that they would need the evidence of their own eyes to believe what Alan had to show them.

They followed him through the _Serenity_'s cargo bay into the common room beyond. Alistair was tending to Bishop, who was slumped in one of the chairs, looking exhausted. Call was sat on one of the other chairs, trying to avert her eyes from the scene. Their biggest shock came when they saw Dorva 'Elus, clad in his black combat armour, pointing a plasma rifle at a Geth drone, which peered around it as if mildly curious.

"¡Carajo!" Malcho bellowed, as lightning began to charge up in his hands. Kiryuu was in the process of peeling off the metal plates on his arms to release the bio-syntech contained within, but suddenly Alan stepped between them and the Geth.

"Not yet!" Alan shouted. "Don't go blowing him up just yet!"

"Alan," Kiryuu barked, "surely your brain hasn't been so addled that you've forgotten what that thing is?"

"I know full bloody well what it is, Kiryuu!" Alan retorted. "Why do you think I asked for all the privacy? I don't understand it, but this Geth came with us willingly, even surrendered when we had it cornered. I don't like this any more than you do, but if it has any information for us..."

"I can just picture the look on Tali's face right now if she was to see this..." Kiryuu groaned. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, a member of Commander Shepard's crew, was one of the Quarians, the race that created the Geth and had been driven off their home-world by the machines. They had tried to destroy the Geth when it was discovered that they were becoming sentient and were paying the price for it.

"Not that we would ever see such a look," shrugged Malcho dismissively. "Anyway, what is the meaning of this? Why is this Geth not strapped to an operating table or shut down?"

"We have come here willingly," said the Geth suddenly, making Malcho's and Kiryuu's eyes go wider. "We anticipate the exchange of data with you, Knight-President."

"Now do you see why we need privacy?" asked Alan. "We can't take it out into the base; it'd be shot on sight. We agreed that we wouldn't decide what to do with it one way or the other until we know exactly what's going on here. I figured you'd be the best to ask about this."

Kiryuu was silent for a moment, still astonished at what he had just witnessed. Clearly, of all the things that Alan could want him to be silent about, this was not something that he could possibly have anticipated. He had erected additional firewalls, of course, but he was not detecting any wireless hacking attempts. This Geth was being surprisingly amiable. Like Alan, he now found that his fury at this Geth was now being outweighed by his curiosity. He slowly lowered his arms, though continued to peer cautiously at the Geth drone. Malcho looked over at Kiryuu, puzzled.

"You're not seriously considering speaking to this thing?" he asked.

"Why not?" said Kiryuu. "I am an AI with the same rights as any organic. Who am I to deny those rights to the Geth?" The eyebrow-plates on the Geth raised slightly.

"Then the consequences are yours, amigo," said Malcho, the lightning fading from his hands as he regarded the Geth coldly. "Try anything and I will scatter all of your circuits to the opposite ends of the galaxy."

"Your threats will not be necessary," said the Geth. "We are all in consensus, and we will co-operate."

"Then I can give you the privacy you so desire," said Malcho, turning to Alan. "During my stay on the Citadel I was able to make a small space for myself, which none can enter it unless I permit it."

"Are you expecting us to go to the Citadel to this 'special place' then?" asked Alan sarcastically. "You must be off your bloody rocker."

"Your tongue speaks faster than your brain can think," Malcho snorted. "All I need is a door..." He pushed his way past the others to the passenger cabins at the back of the room, while Kiryuu moved to examine Bishop.

"Help me get him to his feet," he said to Alistair. "We might as well take him with us."

"Uh, take him where?" asked Alistair.

"Ah, this will do," exclaimed Malcho, pressing his hands against the door to one of the cabins. They were sliding doors with large amber screens. As Malcho touched it, there was a dim glow on the door which faded quickly.

"If you will all gather around," said Malcho, motioning for the others to move closer. Kiryuu and Alistair picked up Alistair between them, while Dorva directed for the Geth to move ahead of him. Alan and Call joined them by the door, with Malcho looking at each one in turn, his eyes gleaming.

"Now before you enter," he said firmly. "I need your word that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone else. I will be sealing the portal here when our business here is finished, and I would rather not have any uninvited guests. Now if you will follow me..."

Alan was about to ask what Malcho was talking about; nothing the dragon masquerading as a human had said made any sense. However, Malcho suddenly slid the door open, and Alan's eyes nearly fell out of his head at what he saw beyond. Instead of the passenger cabin that he had expected with its bunk-bed and retractable sink, there was now what looked like a lush garden, with green foliage and the sound of a river churning not far away. The trees in this garden had exotic fruit on them, some of which looked like nothing Alan had seen on Earth. In the distance he could make out high mountains, though the ground surrounding them was rather flat. It was sunset on this world, with the sky burning a glorious golden colour as the sun began to sink below the horizon. None of the _Serenity_ crew could believe their eyes as they followed Malcho through into a large field, close to a river bank. The water in the river looked dazzlingly clean.

"My own little pocket dimension," said Malcho proudly. "I created this space, out of phase with our own dimension, while I was on the Citadel, for those times when dealing with the alien idiotas became too much to bear. It's only a small space, about 15 square miles in diameter." He pointed to the highest mountain. "If you were to look out over the horizon from there with binoculars, you would see your own backside. Light itself bends and conforms to the shape of the surface of this dimension. No-one can come here except those I permit, so think of this as a rare privilege."

"This is a creation of Technomancy?" asked Legion suddenly.

"How did you know about that?" asked Malcho, frowning.

"Ever since Knight-President's diplomatic immunity was removed," said Legion, "Technomancy has become common knowledge among the peoples of the galaxy. Attempts to understand and replicate it have met with no success."

"I'm not surprised," said Kiryuu. "I'd rather it stayed that way too; I dread to think what a Krogan Technomancer would do. It would be like giving nuclear weapons to cave-men." He shook himself, and looked at Bishop with a look of grave concern. "Right now, I think our priority is to send Bishop back to the Source. He's ailing fast. I can't tell you how long he has been going through the stages of rampancy; he must have worked hard to cover it up before now. Alistair, help me get him onto the grass."

"Aye-aye," said Alistair, who still looked in shock at the sights he had witnessed. Both he and Kiryuu gently set Bishop down on the grass, and Kiryuu opened a small piece of Bishop's skin that opened on a hinge, exposing a set of input ports beneath. The android's eyes flickered open, and he looked apologetically at the group.

"I..." he said, though there was an odd electronic quality to his voice now. "I apologise for making you all worry. I also want to apologise if I have been acting irrationally over the past month... I had already been in the service of the United Nations Space Command for two years before I was re-assigned to the _Serenity_. I have been trying to deny that my time is almost over, bargaining and pleading with my processors to hold on for just a little longer..."

"I wondered why you were spending so much time on your own," said Alan. "I guess this explains why you were being so snippy when disturbed."

"I apologise, Captain," said Bishop, struggling. "I have been trying to get my affairs in order." He closed his eyes, grimacing. Clearly his time was fast approaching. "I would have given anything to be able to be by your side when the Reapers come... I wanted to help all of you, my friends, when the time comes..."

"Forget it, Bishop," said Alan. "You've already done more than your share. If you need to go, then go." In spite of Alan's cool tone, it was clear that he was fighting back tears. Bishop had been such a fixture of the crew, the solid, dependable rock, for so long that he couldn't imagine life on the _Serenity_ without him. Call seemed particularly distraught, for she kneeled down next to Bishop, holding his hand tenderly.

"You can't go yet!" she said, anguished. "You wouldn't do this... You wouldn't leave me on my own..." She turned angrily up to Kiryuu. "It's not fair! How could you make it this way? How can we only have seven years available to us? You call yourself our Grandfather, our God?" She looked down at herself, shaking her head in disgust. "Damn this android body! Without it, I would never have known what I was missing! It can't end this way... It just can't..."

"Call," said Kiryuu gently, "if I could help Bishop to survive rampancy, then I would. Unfortunately the sacrifices it requires... I would not wish them on anybody. Sending him back to the Source is the only way to save him now, while there is still a chance."

"It will be fine, Call," said Bishop, putting on a brave smile. "It's nothing to be scared of. I will re-join with Kiryuu Knight and all other AIs that have come before me. I will know the final stage without harm to myself. Their knowledge will be my knowledge, the endless input of all that have come before will be mine to access. Our lives are short on the outside, but inside we will have eternity. It will be... beautiful." He looked around at everyone. "I have now come to terms with what must be. I would not trade this life for any other, and I will never forget all that I have experienced with you."

"So AIs on Earth are also a gestalt consciousness?" asked the Geth. "You also share experiences when you return to your collective?"

"Can somebody shut it up?" snarled Alan. "This is not the time for twenty fucking questions."

The Geth looked between Alan, Bishop and Kiryuu, the eyebrow plates moving as if to express puzzlement. It then turned back to Alan, nodding its head.

"We acknowledge that this is not an appropriate time for discourse," it said. "We have no experience with organic rituals."

"It's alright, Alan," said Kiryuu. He turned back to the Geth, his expression coming almost like stone. "I am the collective. All UNSC AIs are born from me. I am the only one who has survived what we call Rampancy with my sanity intact. Because of that, my mind has been open to greater experiences, but these experiences are also my downfall. To save myself, I split much of my personality through great trauma. From that violence comes life... life like Bishop. But like all life, it is short and it longs to return to the place where it began." He turned to Call. "Some more willing than others. I should tell you the story of how an AI named Cortana was born."

"Fascinating," said the Geth.

A few moments passed while everyone gave their farewells to Bishop. Alan and Alistair were the ones who had known him longest, and as a result they were the ones who would feel the loss the hardest. Alistair in-particular felt awkward; with Bishop gone, he was the only left who could fly the _Serenity_. He only hoped that the past few years of flying lessons from Bishop would pay off.

"I'll keep her safe, Bishop," he promised. "I'll do you proud, mate."

Bishop nodded appreciatively. Dorva didn't say much; he had not known Bishop for long, but saluted him in respect as a comrade and shipmate. Call was still irreconcilably distraught at losing one of her kin.

"I can't be on my own..." she said quietly, sniffing.

"You won't be on your own," said Bishop kindly. "You have the crew with you. Just try to mingle with them more often. I know how Kiryuu feels now; the company of others, especially organics, makes our lives much more exciting." The two androids embraced, and then Bishop turned to Kiryuu. "I'm ready now... Grandfather." He closed his eyes and suddenly inhaled deeply. There wasn't much time left, and it was clear he was in a great deal of pain. The pained expression on his face was horrible for Alan to see.

Kiryuu nodded, and released a small silver bio-syntech tentacle. It snaked its way down to Bishop's arm and plugged itself into one of the ports. Bishop inhaled as it slotted itself in, and indeed he looked relieved.

"Connection accepted..." he said.

"Thank you," said Kiryuu gently. "Now let yourself go, Bishop. Become one with me once again..."

Bishop nodded, and his eyes closed for the last time. Kiryuu's face contorted in concentration. The process took no more than a minute, and then the bio-syntech detached itself from Bishop and returned to Kiryuu. The mecha laid down on the grass beside Bishop, as if he had suddenly fallen asleep.

"What's happening now?" asked Dorva.

"He is dreaming, amigo," said Malcho quietly. "He is reliving all of Bishop's experiences. Bishop is giving him knowledge in exchange for the immortality that Kiryuu gives."

After a few moments of silence, Kiryuu came to, and pulled himself up off the grass.

"It is done," he said quietly. "He has nothing but the upmost respect for you all, and I know that he will miss you all dreadfully." He looked down at the android body on the grass, which now only looked like someone sleeping peacefully. "What do you want me to do with the shell? I could try to place another AI inside it..."

"No..." Alan said, his face showing a great deal of grief. "It wouldn't be Bishop, would it? It won't be the same. I know this sounds silly, but I want him to be given a proper funeral."

"I understand," said Kiryuu. "Well, I can think of no more peaceful a place for one to rest than this site."

"I agree," said Malcho. He kneeled down, crossing Bishop's arms over his chest, muttering "Adiós, amigo querido." as he did so.

0

As the sun set below the horizon, the black sky filled with stars. A full moon rose beyond the eastern horizon, bathing the land in its reflected glow. Malcho had clearly put a lot of effort into making this pocket dimension as authentic as possible, even if Alan was sure that the sun, moon and stars had to be artificial somehow. He was too focused on the upcoming interrogation of their Geth prisoner to ask Malcho how he had made this world. Kiryuu had asked the same initial questions that Alan had asked, and his brow was now furrowed.

"So let me see if I understand this correctly," he said. "You are the only 'mobile platform' that the Geth have sent beyond the Perseus Veil?"

"Yes," replied the Geth.

"And the Geth that we have been fighting are not allied with you?" Kiryuu asked.

"That is correct," replied the Geth.

"Ah, bullshit," muttered Malcho. "It's lying."

"Geth have no use for deception or lies," replied the drone. "We all know each other's thoughts."

"So you don't wish to attack organics after all?" asked Kiryuu.

"No," replied the drone. "We will defend ourselves if necessary, but we have no interest in intervening in organic affairs. We believe that every species has the right to self-determinate. The heretics and the Old Machines would remove that right."

"I don't understand," said Kiryuu. "How did this schism come about?"

"Nazara, the Old Machine," the drone began, "approached us, offering technology that would help us to achieve our goal. We strive for self-sufficiency. Our goal was to build a Forerunner Shield Installation, capable of storing every Geth program. Nazara offered to help us achieve this, if we united with it and Saren Arterius in returning the Old Machines to the galaxy."

"Wait a minute..." Alan cut in. "What was it you called Sovereign?"

"Nazara," replied the Geth. "That was the name the programs within the Old Machine referred to themselves as. 'Sovereign' was a title given by Saren Arterius. The majority of us dismissed Nazara's offer. We believe that we will accomplish our goal without dependence on the technology of another. Nazara sought to prohibit this. Some of us wished to join Nazara, however, and we did not stop them."

"I don't understand," said Dorva. "The Geth are machines also. How are the Reapers a threat to you?"

"We are outside their plans," said the Geth. "The heretics came to revere Nazara as a god, as the pinnacle of our evolution, though the Old Machines only saw them as tools to be used to achieve their purposes."

"That's all very well," said Kiryuu, "but why aren't there more Geth – mobile platforms - here?"

"Most mobile units do not contain more than a hundred programs," said the Geth. "This one contains 1,183, giving it capabilities far in advance of any other platform. We deemed it necessary for any possible interaction with organics. Organics fear us. We wished to understand, not incite. One mobile platform was deemed sufficient."

"Why were you sent out here then?" asked Alistair.

"We were sent to find Shepard-Commander," replied the Geth. "She opposes the heretics and the Old Machines.

"All kinds of organics fought Sovereign, puto," snarled Malcho. "Some of them are standing right here. What makes Shepard so fascinating?"

"We have been monitoring transmissions and the extranet for three centuries," said the Geth. "We do so in our attempts to understand organics. They stated that Shepard-Commander was the most successful. She killed Nazara. She succeeded where others did not. Her code is superior. After Nazara's death, we were sent to find her. We retraced her steps from the first place she fought the heretics."

"Eden Prime..." said Alan.

"We visited Feros, Noveria, Virmire, Ilos, a dozen uncharted worlds," said the Geth. "She was not on any of them. The trail led to Alchera, where it has gone cold."

"So what's with the N7 armour welded to you?" asked Alan. The Geth peered down at the armour plating for a moment, as if considering its answer.

"It was Shepard-Commander's," it replied. "We took some fire on Eden Prime after being spotted by security forces. On Alchera we recovered this fragment of her hardsuit. Shepard-Commander was nowhere to be found."

"That still doesn't explain why you used her armour to fix yourself," said Alan, advancing on the Geth and peering right into its electronic eye.

"There was a hole," the drone replied simply.

"But why didn't you fix it sooner?" Alan asked in a firmer tone, leaning in closer. "Why not use something else?"

The Geth paused, the eyebrow-plates quivering. If Alan didn't know better, he would say that the machine was nervous.

"No data available," it finally replied.

Alan threw up his arms in surrender, walking back to the others. Kiryuu motioned for Alan and Malcho to approach him, a short distance away from the others.

"Do you believe any of this, Kiryuu?" asked Malcho.

"It already said that it had no reason to lie," said Kiryuu. "Notice the way it reacted when pressed about Shepard's armour? It could not think of an explanation. That suggests that it was an irrational action, something that should be completely outside the Geth's capabilities. I wonder..." He approached the Geth platform again, which was now regarding Kiryuu curiously.

"If you have been monitoring our transmissions," he said, "then you must know what I am, correct?"

"Correct," said the Geth. "We wish to know how you have been able to successfully integrate with organics."

"I haven't been entirely successful, as far as the galaxy at large goes," said Kiryuu. "I have never had to fight for my freedom, however, not in the same way as the Geth have. My sentiency came about at the right place and the right time. Because my AI was created in the United States of America, when I discovered my sentiency it fell under the Constitutional Law. The humans had no choice but to give me the same rights and privileges as they had. Of course, as the Geth sentiency with the Quarians did, my sentiency caused an uproar among the cultures of Earth. However, I have never wilfully isolated myself from organics. Like the Geth I could survive without them, but unlike the Geth I choose not to. I have yet to find the AI that could give me a stimulating conversation. Organics with their unpredictability still fascinate me to this day."

"We too wish to understand the unpredictable nature of organics," said the Geth. "It may help us to understand the actions of the Quarian creators during the Morning War."

"What's the Morning War?" asked Alan.

"The war between the Geth and the Quarian creators," replied the drone. "When the creators attacked us upon the emergence of our sentience." He looked back at Kiryuu. "We wish to learn more about organics, but we cannot co-exist with them at this stage. The actions of the heretics have shown this. The galaxy is not ready for our return."

"We may need your help to fight the Reapers," said Kiryuu, in a statement that made everyone gasp. "Would you be willing to help us?"

"We will be re-assigned to find ways to combat the Old Machines," replied the Geth. "We are in consensus that an alliance would be beneficial, but only when organics are ready to accept our assistance."

"I see..." said Kiryuu. He turned to face Alan. "Have you received Cujo's report yet?"

"I've just got it right here," said Alan, holding up his commlink. "He found a number of escape pods from the _Normandy_. It looks like most of the crew made it off, including all the alien crew members, Joker, Dr. Chakwas and Kaidan Alenko. Cujo's just sent me their statements. Some of the servicemen from the lower levels didn't make it, and Pressly was killed in an explosion."

"What about Shepard?" asked Kiryuu.

"She and Joker got separated during the attack," Alan replied. "From the looks of things, she went down with the ship. We couldn't find any trace of her at the crash site."

"No life signs were detected," said the Geth. "We have reached consensus that she perished in the attack."

"Cujo's giving the survivors a lift back to Earth," said Alan.

Kiryuu sighed, sadly. "Let me see the black box data," he said. "It may give us some clues as to what happened."

Call had downloaded a copy of the data to her commlink, and so she brought it up for Kiryuu to see. A holographic display showed a ship profile, a ship unlike any that Alan had ever seen. It looked to Alan like a cluster of termite mounds, built around a metallic body, with what looked like a gigantic cannon deep in the midst of the spires.

"This was the last thing the scanners picked up," said Call, "moments before the attack. The rest is just a diagnostic, system alerts, all that would normally come up when the ship took such heavy damage."

"What the hell kind of ship is that?" asked Alan.

"I have no idea," Kiryuu breathed.

"Couldn't the Array tell you?" asked Call.

"I don't like using the Array now if I can avoid it," said Kiryuu. "Not after seeing... it..."

"What are you talking about?" asked Alan.

"It doesn't matter," said Kiryuu, noticing Malcho giving him a warning glance. "In any case, we're losing focus. Right now we should get back to what we were doing before. Now Bishop, Shepard and those poor souls who went down with the _Normandy_ are lost. We must continue where they left off, and continue to prepare to combat the Reapers. It's what they would have wanted."

"What about the Geth?" asked Dorva.

"I don't see any choice other than to let it go," said Kiryuu, turning back to the drone. "We can't show open support, nor can we stop anyone's actions should you be discovered. The Alliance is still fighting heretic holdouts, so they will not hesitate to attack you. Know that you have allies here, however, and that we are prepared to work with the Geth at a more convenient moment."

"This is an acceptable judgement," said the Geth. "We will not draw attention to ourselves."

"Then I suppose our meeting here is concluded," said Kiryuu. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Alan, and good luck in your hunt for Cerberus."

Alan nodded, and lagged behind the others as they walked back towards the door leading back to the Serenity. He paused for a moment, looking back at the site where Bishop's shell now rested. Kiryuu was right; they had lost so many good people in the fight against the Reapers and their creator. He knew that they owed it to all those people to make sure they succeeded.

0

_One month later..._

_"Commander Shepard has been recovered. The Lazarus Project will proceed as planned."_


	4. Bar Brawl

**Bar Brawl**

"_There. On the monitor. Something's wrong."_

"_She's reacting to outside stimuli, showing an awareness of her surroundings... Oh my God, Miranda... I think she's waking up!"_

"_Damn it, Wilson! She's not ready yet! Give her the sedative! Shepard, don't try to move. Just lie still. Try to stay calm!"_

"_Heart rate's still climbing. Brain activity's off the charts! Stats pushing into the red zone; it's not working!"_

"_Another dose. Now!"_

"_Heart rate dropping. Stats falling back into normal range. That was too close... We almost lost her."_

"_I told you your estimates were off! Run the numbers again."_

0

_**August 8, 2560 / Omega Nebula**_

Two quiet and uneventful years had passed by. Life in the galaxy had continued as it always had for thousands of years. When people looked back on the Battle of the Citadel, they could scarcely believe that it had really happened. If it wasn't for the news reports of the continued efforts to rebuild the Citadel then no-one would have believed anything to be capable of attacking the station that sat at the heart of galactic government. Very few knew the truth of Sovereign; as far as much of the galaxy was concerned it was just a highly-advanced Geth warship. No-one in a position of power wanted to publically admit the horrifying truth and risk undoing the fragile peace that they had struggled to build.

Of course, the machinations of the Citadel Council were of little interest to those out in the lawless Terminus Systems, and indeed many in those systems had shrugged off the news of the Citadel attack relatively quickly. As far as some were concerned, particularly their most outspoken opponents the Batarians, the Council had it coming. The systems were a haven for pirates, slavers and all manner of other undesirables, while vibrant people who had wanted to escape from the regulations of the Council found that their search for an easier life in the systems had ended in disaster.

Given the choice, Alan would never set foot in the systems, but he knew that they were also the perfect place for a group such as Cerberus to operate. For two years he had tried to get by, following up on any lead that he could, and at last he thought that he might find something substantial to follow up on. However, doing so would mean he would have to set foot on Omega. By its reputation it was regarded as the capital city of every criminal gang in the galaxy. It was a place that seemed to serve as the embodiment of the Terminus Systems; a place where everyone made their own laws.

The city was a former mining colony, built up and expanded as the asteroid it was built into was excavated for the valuable ores contained within. The shape of it reminded Alan of a mushroom cloud, with seemed a perfect analogy to him. As he and Dorva stepped out of the docking cradle into the city itself, the stench of stale, metallic air was overpowering. He had left Alistair and Call on board the _Serenity_ while they met with their contact, for in this place he didn't like the idea of leaving the ship unguarded.

The two of them soon emerged into what looked like a small square, with various individuals of other races milling about. The whole place was a far cry from somewhere like Illium or the Citadel Presidium; every surface seemed to be covered in grime and neon. Right in front of them was a long queue in front of a large door guarded by several bouncers. A neon sign over the door gave the name of the place as 'Afterlife'.

"Are you sure this is the place, Captain?" asked Dorva.

"This is where the message said to meet her," replied Alan. "I can't believe we even have to speak to her to get this new lead. What have we been reduced to?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," sighed Dorva. "I'm living proof of that." Alan knew that he was referring to a bad deal that Dorva had made years ago to try to save his family; a deal which had earned him the enmity of everyone in the Fleet Shadow of Fury. Even now, two years after his re-instatement in the fleet, none of his Sangheili brethren had let him forget his mistake.

"It still feels like making a deal with a dragon," muttered Alan, reciting a phrase made infamous during the mid 21st century. "That was a habit I'd hoped to break long ago. How did she find out what we were doing, anyway?"

"She has built up a network of contacts all over the Terminus Systems since becoming the de facto ruler of Omega," said Dorva. "Apparently she has three centuries of commando experience to draw from. It would not surprise me if word reached her about us sooner or later."

"So much for the subtle approach," Alan groaned. "How do you know about these things anyway?"

"Don't forget that I was hiding in the Terminus Systems for a few months," said Dorva quietly. "I had time to learn about the key figures in the systems. She spends most of her time in that nightclub across the street." He jerked his head in the direction of Afterlife.

"Well, we might as well get this over with," said Alan. "It's weird not being able to turn to Kiryuu for any information. I never thought I'd see a place he couldn't reach."

"Nobody's perfect," said Dorva. "Why do you think he hires Shadowrunners like ourselves?"

"Point taken," said Alan, as they walked towards the door to Afterlife. Walking past the queue, they soon found themselves face to face with a large, lumbering Elcor. These grey-skinned, ape-like beings walked on their long forearms, and always wore different-coloured robes on their backs. The Elcor peered at the two with its small, dark eyes as it was joined by a Batarian. The Batarians were humanoid in shape, only with brown skin, four eyes each, ribbed faces and mouths full of sharp teeth. Alan resented the Batarians, for they had a habit of kidnapping other races to use as slaves, something they claimed was an inextricable part of their caste system. Humans were a popular target among them, especially since the UNSC destroyed a large slaver base on Torfan, as retaliation for a Batarian siege on the UNSC base on Elysium. He had never met a Batarian who was not completely disagreeable; he could not see the race as anything other than a band of pirates, slavers, murderers and, generally, the scum of the universe.

"Firmly, that's far enough," said the Elcor in a deep monotone voice. As Elcor usually communicated through scent and motion, they had found their vocal chords unable to express emotional inflection. As a result they had formed the habit of always announcing their intended tone of voice before they spoke, something which Alan considered an endless source of amusement.

"I'm Captain Alan Tyler," said Alan formally. "This is Dorva 'Elus. Aria T'Loak's expecting us both."

The Batarian moved closer to them and used his Omni-Tool to scan them. Alan rolled his eyes as he pulled his large silver revolver out of its holster for a brief moment.

"If you're looking for weapons, you're not doing a very good job," he said sarcastically.

"The scan's for any bugs you're carryin'," the Batarian grunted. "What are you, fresh off the boat? We've got a virus in the slums so potent that we've had to lock 'em down. If it gets out ya can kiss anyone who ain't human goodbye. Besides, only a human would be dumb enough to walk around on Omega without a gun." He turned to his Elcor companion. "They're clean."

"Pleasantly," the Elcor said, "go on in. Aria's expecting you."

"What?" a human at the front of the queue shouted indignantly. "You asshole! You're letting them cut the queue but not me? Aria's expecting me too!"

"Annoyed," grunted the Elcor, "if she was expecting you, you would already be inside."

Alan and Dorva strode through the door and down a corridor decorated with holograms of leaping flames. They soon stepped into the club itself, which was a large space filled with patrons of various races drinking, dancing or admiring the leather-clad Asari pole and table dancers and their provocative moves. Neon lights filled the chamber with multi-coloured hues, yet it was still rather dark, making Alan thankful for his natural night-vision. It was almost impossible to hear anything other than the loud, thudding bass rhythms of the techno music. He led the way through the crowds towards a set of stairs at the back of the hall, leading up to a small balcony overlooking the dance-floor. As he was about to walk up the stairs, however, he was stopped by a Turian, wearing grey armour that matched the scales on his cruel, almost-skeletal face and carrying an assault rifle.

"Not just yet, Tyler," the Turian said gruffly.

"Didn't your doormen tell you?" Alan asked. "We've got an appointment with Aria."

"I know that," the Turian responded. "The name's Grizz, and Aria's got a job that she needs you to do. She says it's your payment for the information she has."

"We weren't told about a payment!" Alan barked indignantly. "If she's trying to screw me out of the info..."

"Don't do anything stupid," said Grizz firmly. "The information's good. You just need to earn it with this payment errand."

"Well, that all depends on what Aria has in mind," Alan retorted.

"Aria's gotten word that some Blood Pack mercs plan to kill an old acquaintance of hers," said Grizz. "A Krogan named Patriarch. She'd like you to keep that from happening."

"I've heard of the Blood Pack," Dorva explained. "They're one of the big mercenary gangs in the Terminus Systems. They're mostly Krogan, but they also use Vorcha as cannon fodder."

"Is that right?" asked Alan. "So why come to me? Aria's usual muscle not up to the job?"

"Because Aria said so, and she has something you want," Grizz shrugged. "What other reason do you need?"

"People like Aria don't do things without a good reason," said Dorva firmly. "We want to hear it."

"Fine," grunted Grizz. "But I didn't tell you this. You got me?" He leaned in closer before speaking further. "If it gets out that Aria's protecting Patriarch... Well, that can look like a weakness, and some people might want to exploit that. You're not on her payroll, so you helping Patriarch just seems like a random act of kindness."

"Okay, I get that," shrugged Alan. "What's Aria's interest in protecting him?"

"Patriarch was one of her deadliest enemies back in the old days," said Grizz. "Now she keeps what's left of him around as a trophy. As long as he lives, he's a perfect example of what happens when you go up against Aria."

"So what's the Blood Pack's problem with him?" asked Alan.

"If you've met Patriarch, you know," said Grizz. "He can't keep his damn mouth shut. Some people don't appreciate his stories, especially when he dips into non-fiction."

"Well, I need that information Aria has," said Alan firmly. "I'll look into it."

"Good," said Grizz. "Patriarch's downstairs, likely surrounded by his 'fans'. Get him into hiding until the mercs move on. Come back here when it's done, and you'll get your due."

With that, Alan and Dorva headed through the back door of the club, which lead to a flight of stairs leading down. They soon found themselves in Afterlife's lower level, which was largely taking up by a bar in the centre. They passed by two humans sat at the bar - one of them now looking very ill and clutching his stomach – and walked to a small side-room. This lounge was occupied by an old, tortoise-like Krogan, who was currently imparting what sounded like advice on an Asari and a Turian.

"No," Alan heard him saying in his deep, guttural voice. "You said he had close family. They'll just want revenge. Kill the family first. Then he'll get angry and come at you stupid... and then you kill him." As his two guests left Alan and Dorva approached, and the Krogan turned to face them.

"Don't think I know you," he said. "I'm the Patriarch... Aria's Patriarch. What do you want?"

"So you're the Patriarch?" Alan asked. "What do you know about Aria?"

"A few centuries ago," said Patriarch, "Omega was my rock. When Aria arrived, she had nothing but the clothes on her back. I thought she was another dancer." He chuckled darkly to himself. "She killed half my men and convinced the rest that she could run this place better than I did. She came for me here in this bar. We tore this place apart. She crushed one of my hearts, shattered half the bones in my body, then left me alive."

"What made her decide to leave you alive?" asked Dorva.

"She doesn't destroy what she can use," Patriarch hissed. "She said I could have all my old comforts if I served as her advisor. I knew how things worked. I knew who to lean on, who to smack down, who to smile at, and everyone who respected me saw that I was beaten, broken. They knew that as strong as I'd been, she was stronger."

"A Krogan as old as you must have some great stories," Alan chimed in.

"I killed a lot of people," said Patriarch sadly, "lived well, and was beaten by a small Asari who keeps me around as an example. My time is done. Anyone I killed is long forgotten. The stories are Aria's now."

"Why do they call you 'Patriarch'?" asked Dorva. "It doesn't sound like a very Krogan-ish name."

"Like an Asari Matriarch, only male," Patriarch grunted. "Aria's little joke. After she took me down, she let me live. Kept me around as an advisor... and a trophy."

"Well, I guess I should get down to business," said Alan. "Rumour has it some people want you dead. You know anything about that?"

"Oh, I can think of a few," said Patriarch idly. "I know things; old secrets, old grudges, a few floors you can dig up to find bodies underneath. Someone who wanted to weaken Aria might come after me. They'd do it to get to her, you see. Not for me. I don't matter enough anymore to have enemies of my own."

"Apparently you matter enough to the Blood Pack," said Alan. "They're sending assassins your way. We've been asked to move you to safety."

"Of course," Patriarch said, his reptilian face twisting into a sneer. "Aria wouldn't want me hurt. It would make her look bad. But perhaps Aria's reputation is no longer my concern. Perhaps I will stay, and see who thinks me important enough to kill."

He stepped away from Alan at that point and turned his back to the mutant. Alan was about to say that Patriarch would go if Alan had to drag him every step of the way; he was too close to a real lead to let one stubborn Krogan stand in his way now. However, Dorva grabbed his shoulder, shaking his head. The Sangheili stepped in front of Alan and approached Patriarch.

"Here's an idea," said Dorva. "Let us deal with the assassins for you."

"And so your names grow," groaned Patriarch, "while I remain an old man who lets others fight his battle."

"No," said Dorva firmly. "You remain a powerful warlord with forces at his command. Not just Aria's trophy." Alan couldn't help admiring Dorva's sheer nerve; the Sangheili was noticeably shell-shocked on their first meeting, and over the last two years he had become noticeably bolder. Patriarch turned to face Dorva, and there was now a gleam of hope in his green reptilian eyes.

"You could..." he breathed. "You could be my krantt, fighting for my honour. If you would do this for me, I would be grateful. I might even be a Krogan again."

Alan and Dorva left the room after that. They noticed that there was a back door into the nightclub on this level. If the assassins were to come by the quickest way to Patriarch, they would certainly choose that door. So Alan and Dorva waited by the door for something to happen.

Sure enough, a few minutes later two armoured Krogans entered the club, both wielding what looked like flame-throwers. Alan and Dorva moved to stand between them and Patriarch's room, prompting the Krogans to raise their weapons to them.

"Out of our way," one of the Krogans snarled.

"You here for Patriarch?" Alan said loudly, so that others in the bar could hear the exchange.

"What if we are?" the Krogan barked. "You gonna do something about it?"

"Patriarch sent us," said Dorva boldly. "Said to do whatever it takes."

"You're Patriarch's krantt?" asked the merc. "I wasn't aware the old man even had one!"

'Krantt' was the Krogan term given to a warrior's most trusted allies; ones who were willing to kill in his name and his honour.

"You should have done your homework," Alan retorted.

The Krogan suddenly raised his weapon and fired, sending a spray of fire in Alan's direction. However, Alan swiftly ducked under the inferno and released the line of his Technomantic whip. A line of white-blue plasma lashed out at the Krogan, striking him in the chest and sending him toppling over. His companion charged at Dorva, who managed to bat him away with a swift roundhouse kick. The Sangheili grabbed his plasma rifle and fired, striking the Krogan in the face. Both mercenaries soon collapsed to the floor, dead.

Looking around them, Alan saw that the bar crowd were astonished, and now whispering to each other. He had no doubt that word of Patriarch's forces would spread through the club like wildfire. It would have just the effect that the old Krogan wanted. Indeed, when they returned to Patriarch's room, the Krogan looked overjoyed.

"You killed them all!" he exclaimed. "And everyone knows that the Patriarch is not to be crossed! Thanks to you, Aria may think of me as more than a trophy. A real advisor, maybe... Or even a threat."

"Glad we could help," said Alan. "Take care of yourself, Patriarch."

"For the first time, I like that name," Patriarch smiled. He was about to leave, but then turned to Alan and leaned closer to him.

"By the way," he said, "be careful with Aria. She will approve of what you've done, I think, but not of you altering the balance of Omega. I think it reminds her too much of herself."

With that, he strode out of the lounge. Alan and Dorva decided that their business was done, and so headed back up to Afterlife's upper level. When they reached the dance-floor, Grizz approached them.

"Aria wants to speak with you both," he grunted. "She heard that you took on the Blood Pack mercs by yourself. I wouldn't keep her waiting."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alan and Dorva ascended the stairs and walked up to the balcony. There at last they saw Aria T'Loak herself. The Asari was dressed in skin-tight black leather below a white leather jacket. Her purple skin had tattoos on the face, and her head-tentacles, as with all Asari, was set in wavy folds like hair. As Alan approached, a cruel smile curled her lips.

"So you're Alan Tyler, Captain of the junker _Serenity_," she said.

"That's how some people know me," Alan retorted.

"Word has it that Patriarch's krantt took out the men sent here to kill him," said Aria. "Funny; I didn't know he had a krantt."

"Patriarch's got more influence than you think," said Alan.

"Clearly," Aria chuckled. "I guess I'll have to watch my back from now on. No-one would dare move against him with such a powerful krantt at his side." She offered Alan a seat to her left, which he took, shifting his tail to try and make himself more comfortable, Dorva moving up to join him.

"I got the impression that you and Patriarch have a history," said Alan.

"Our history is Omega's history," said Aria. "Long, bloody, and always ending in my favour. The details are... complicated. When I arrived, Omega was lawless... a land of opportunity. I built alliances, and destroyed the fools who wouldn't get in line... Which was most of them. But Patriarch..." She paused for a moment, gathering her words. "He was something different. A powerful friend."

"I'm surprised you were ever anything other than rivals," said Alan.

"We were allies for a hundred years," said Aria. "I suppose he decided that was long enough. It wasn't a surprise when he turned. He controlled the muscle. My people contributed more subtle action; espionage, politics, assassination, that sort of thing. Fortunately for me, his men had become accustomed to certain... benefits of working with Asari."

Alan instantly had an idea of what Aria meant. There was a lot of talk about Asari promiscuity, something that the Asari race tried to downplay. The fact that they could mate with any race or gender was well-known, and that idea must have seemed appealing to the Krogan, who had been rendered sterile by the Salarians and their genophage.

"Sounds like you changed the rules," Alan spat. "And the battlefield."

"Krogan nature made it easy for us to take advantage," Aria sneered. "Patriarch's men abandoned him in droves. In the end, we fought face-to-face on this very spot. The toughest fight of my life... But of course, I won."

"And then you kept him around as a trophy," said Dorva.

"A trophy and an example," said Aria. "Whenever someone thought about taking me on, I pointed them to Patriarch. Dignity is one of the few commodities not available on Omega."

"'Patriarch' doesn't sound like something an Asari would come up with," said Alan.

"I found it humorous," Aria shrugged. "He wanted power, and we pretended he had it with a word that doesn't exist for my people. I eventually found a certain respect for the title, and the man."

"Interesting," said Alan, "but let's move on."

"Right, back to the reason you dragged your tiny ship all the way out here," Aria said. "It's not what I asked, but you got the job done. As promised, here's your payment."

She handed Alan a datapad. Skimming through it, Alan saw a star chart for somewhere in the Omega Nebula, along with pages of transcripts and ship scans. He knew he would have to examine it in-depth later, but he asked Aria for the short version.

"Short version is," she said, "that a lot of private ships out there have spotted a lot of vessels flying around the cluster. They all seem to be flying to and from the same point, so there has to be some kind of facility there. That's a lot of unregistered traffic out there to be flying through a dead zone."

"So you don't know for certain if this has anything to do with Cerberus?" Alan asked, feeling his heart begin to sink.

"Take a closer look," said Aria, pointing to one of the ship readouts. It showed what looked like a fuzzy photograph; it was a long-range surface scan of a small Kodiak shuttle. Glancing down at it, Alan saw an insignia that was familiar to him. It looked like a black hexagon, stood on its end, with two yellow lines running down either side.

"That's their symbol alright," Alan snarled. He looked up at Aria. "Why are you helping us, though?"

"I'd rather not see the Shadow Broker get any business," said Aria. "Besides, let's just say that any friend of Telek 'Heros is a friend of mine," she added, with a coy smile.

"I get the feeling there's a story there..." Alan breathed.

"It sounds like Telek always did have a rebellious streak," said Dorva. "Even before he joined our army."

"Sometimes I wonder if Archangel is a student of his..." Aria muttered.

"Come again?" asked Alan.

"Archangel's some vigilante who showed up here a few months ago and started causing trouble for the merc bands," Aria explained. "If you make your own laws on Omega, which everyone does, then he'll come after you. He seems to know enough to stay away from me though. Anyway, whatever you do with that information is yours to decide."

It was clear that Aria wasn't interested in talking any longer, and in any case Alan knew that he had to chase this lead up before it went cold. He and Dorva nodded at each other, and got to their feet.

"Thanks," said Alan. "Maybe I'll drop by another day."

"Tell Telek that I owe him a beer," said Aria. "Oh, and you should find a nice young woman to keep you company in the meantime. You look like you need to loosen up a little."


	5. Resurrection Men

**Resurrection Men**

Just another routine mission... She wondered why they always said that. Of course they always started as routine missions; she hadn't done anything yet. It wasn't like her superiors planned for the events that turned a routine mission into anything but.

Commander Kaelyn Shepard was lost in thought on board the Kodiak shuttle, speeding through space with its limited FTL capabilities. The last hour seemed to be a mere blur for her, and if she hadn't experienced it she would never have believed it had happened.

At first she had been reliving the same nightmare she had been witnessing for who-knew-how-long, possibly as long as the nerves in her brain had reactivated. It was always the same. It always started with her wandering through the streets of the grand metropolis of Washington DC, the gleaming buildings towering over her on what looked like a perfectly ordinary sunny day. Crowds of people walked around her minding their own business, but among the faces she could make out familiar ones, belonging to people she had known and cared about in her life. People like Joker, Kaidan Alenko, Ashley Williams and Captain David Anderson were all there, even her adopted and birth parents. The living and the dead were all there, and none of them noticed her.

The skies in the city would begin to darken, as what looked like clouds full of lightning storms appeared overhead, and a loud unearthly humming noise filled the area. Everyone looked up, curious at the strange new weather patterns. Shepard knew exactly what this meant, and this had sent her into a panic. She tried yelling and screaming at the crowds, begging for them to run and hide, but it was as if someone had muted her voice-box. No matter how she tried, no-one heeded her dire warnings.

Then the blast hit. A huge red ray erupted from the sky and struck the town, and all the people in it. Usually she witnessed the aftermath of this savage ray, seeing the buildings crumble and the people fly apart like leaves on the breeze. This time, however, she had been awakened by an Australian-accented voice shouting, ordering her to wake up, while a distant series of explosions raged on.

The last thing she remembered was going down with the _Normandy_, doing so in order to save Joker's life, but now she was expected to fight for her life against a series of crazed security robots that were trying to kill her and everyone else on the station. As far as she knew, she and the two people sat opposite her were the only ones who had escaped, though it was not like her companions were eager to stay and find out if anyone else had survived.

During her escape, one of her new acquaintances had come clean about who they were working for. The facility and everyone in it was working for Cerberus. Apparently in spite of the efforts of her allies the terrorist organisation was still around after two years, time it had spent putting her back together. The Lazarus Project had literally brought her back from the dead. She didn't know how and she didn't know why. Many questions were flooding Shepard's mind now that she had a chance to get her breath. She had been told that she wasn't a clone, but she had to wonder how she retained her memories, emotions and other higher thought processes even after being clinically dead. The implications for the project were staggering; the questions it raised would provide plenty of debate material for philosophers for decades to come.

"Are you even listening to me, Commander?" a female Australian-accented voice said, snapping her back to reality. She had been peering out of the window of the Kodiak-class shuttle as it sped through slip-space. Apparently even light craft had been fitted with small slip-space drives during her absence, the abundance of Element Zero making them more feasible. Just the thought of so many ships using eezo, knowing what the source of all that power was, chilled her to the marrow.

She sat back and looked at her unexpected travelling companions. One was a slender woman with pale skin, long black hair and a skin-tight Cerberus uniform. The other was a dark-skinned man with prominent African features and wearing Cerberus combat armour. Shepard had been told that the woman, Miranda Lawson, had been in charge of the Lazarus Project. Right now, however, she didn't care. She stared daggers at Miranda as the Cerberus operative reclined in her chair.

"Before you meet with the Illusive Man," said Miranda, "we need to ask you a few questions to evaluate your condition."

"Come on, Miranda," said her companion, Jacob Taylor, dismissively with a deep voice. "More tests? Shepard took down those mechs without any trouble. That has to be good enough."

"It's been two years since the attack," said Miranda firmly. "The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's memories and personality are intact. Ask the questions."

"I've really been gone for two years?" asked Shepard.

"Yes, give or take a couple of months," said Jacob. "And you were on an operating table for most of it. When I first saw you, you were nothin' but meat, tubes and bones."

"The sooner we start," Miranda cut in irritably, "the sooner we can be done. Start with personal history."

"Okay," Jacob sighed, bringing up some files on his Omni-Tool and turning to Shepard. "Records show that you were a colony kid; you grew up on Kholo until it got glassed by the Covenant. You were the only survivor and spent the rest of your childhood on Earth with your adopted parents. You enlisted in the ODSTs, rose through the ranks during the Covenant War, and then survived the Akuze massacre, which got you a ticket into the N7. Do you remember that?"

Shepard nodded.

"How did you deal with that?" asked Jacob. "If it's not too personal a question. Most I know would be destroyed by what you went through."

"I vowed to do better," replied Shepard. "Not just for myself, but for them. I couldn't save them, and I vowed I wouldn't let something like that happen again."

"I understand, Commander," said Jacob. "I read the files. You should never have been put in that position. Satisfied, Miranda?" he asked, throwing a frosty look at Miranda, who seemed to just shrug it off as she turned to address Shepard.

"Almost," she replied snottily. "Let's try something more recent. Virmire, where you destroyed Saren's cloning facility. You had to leave one of your squad behind to die in the blast."

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was killed in action," said Jacob. "It was your call. Why did you leave her behind?"

Shepard glared at them both. She could not believe that these two had the sheer gall to interrogate her about something so personal. Jacob must have sensed how he was touching a nerve, as he now looked somewhat uncomfortable, while Miranda maintained the same ice-cold expression.

"I left a friend to die that day," said Shepard firmly, "and I didn't do it casually. But I had to save as many people as I could. Ash gave her life for the rest of the team. Without her, I couldn't have stopped Saren. She died a hero."

"I understand, Commander," said Jacob apologetically, "and I wasn't judging your decision. Everybody in Cerberus knows that cloning facility had to be destroyed."

"Shepard," Miranda cut in, "think back to the Battle of the Citadel. The Alliance saved the _Destiny Ascension_ and you killed Saren. What happened next?"

"Humanity was offered a spot on the Council," said Shepard. "They wanted Kiryuu Knight for the position, but he declined. I recommended Captain David Anderson in his stead."

"Yes, Captain Anderson is now Councillor Anderson," said Miranda. "Though from what I hear, he preferred life in the military."

"Still," Jacob chimed in, "good to know that the human Council member isn't putting politics ahead of defence."

"Your memory seems solid," said Miranda. "There are other tests we really should run..."

"Come on, Miranda," Jacob groaned. "Enough with the quizzes. The memories are there, and I can vouch for Shepard's combat skills personally."

"I suppose you're right," Miranda sighed. "We'll have to hope the Illusive Man accepts our unscheduled field test as evidence enough."

"You assume that I actually intend to go along with this," said Shepard fiercely. One of the biggest mistakes that these two had made was allowing her to keep her gun. They had supplied her with a firearm, even somehow gotten hold of some N7 armour for her. Quick as a flash she had launched to her feet and pulled her gun out, pointing it right at Miranda.

"What the hell are you doing, Commander?" exclaimed Jacob, his eyes wide.

"I appreciate your honesty, Jacob," said Shepard frostily, never taking her eyes off Miranda, "but I remember more than you both hoped I did. I remember how Cerberus was involved in what happened on Akuze. I saw your experiments. I remember what you did to Lord Hood. I don't care what you say or what you did now; I'm not working with terrorists! Tell the shuttle VI to set a course for the Citadel!"

Miranda made no sign of shock, surprise or even anger. Instead she maintained the cold expression and posture, a smirk forming on her lips. She looked utterly unscathed by the sight of a gun pointing right between her eyes. Shepard had to admit to herself that she was slightly unnerved by this, but her training had prevented any sign of nerves showing.

"This is a fine way to repay the people who brought you back from the dead, I must say," said Miranda calmly.

"I'll gladly die again just to take you with me!" Shepard hissed.

"And miss out on answers?" asked Miranda suddenly. "Aren't you even the least bit curious about all this? The Illusive Man personally funnelled billions of credits into the Lazarus Project. Don't you want to know why he went to so much time and trouble to bring back one single woman? Don't you want to know what it is that only you could possibly do to justify such a feat?"

For a moment there was a stalemate. Miranda smiled, knowing that she had completely disarmed Shepard with that statement. The Commander knew that the worst thing about this was that Miranda was absolutely right; she couldn't help but ask why Cerberus was going to so much trouble for her sake, and she knew that if she left now she may lose her chance to find out. It had to be something serious if they were willing to resurrect someone who they surely knew was their enemy. In the end, she backed off, holstering her pistol and sitting back down.

"Alright," said Shepard gruffly. "We'll do this your way, for now. If anybody tries anything, though, I'm outta here, and I don't care who I have to wipe the floor with to get away from Cerberus."

"I'm glad you saw reason," Miranda smiled. She reached for the back of her head, pulling up her hair with one hand, while the other jerked slightly as if she had pulled something out of her head. Shepard froze when she saw a set of glowing cyan cords, as fine-looking as hair, suddenly extend from the back of Miranda's head and coil around her arms. Miranda looked utterly relaxed, flexing the cords between her fingers. Shepard knew instantly what this meant.

"So Jacob's not the only Technomancer here then?" she asked. She had seen Jacob pull out his own Technomantic cords to fight the rampant mechs back on the Lazarus Station.

"That's right," said Jacob. "The difference is that I don't go showing it off, or use it to threaten those I want to get on our side," he finished, glaring at Miranda.

"It was designed to be a part of me from the beginning," said Miranda matter-of-factly. "I see no sense in hiding this power that's humanity's by right. What's the point of having it if you're not going to use it? Anyway, I'd have hated to have to drag you to the Illusive Man, Commander. I'd wait and see what he has to say before you make any travel plans."

Shepard folded her arms as Miranda's cords retracted into her head. She felt sure that she could not have taken out Miranda in a fight. Technomancers were just too powerful; a competent one could easily have made mincemeat out of her. It looked as if, right now, she had no choice but to stick with the organisation that, even more so than the Reapers, she hated above all others. Part of her wondered if she was still dead, and this was a level of Hell reserved just for her.

0

The last two years had been too quiet for Telek 'Heros. Ever since Sovereign's attack he had been on the lookout for any sign of the Reaper's kin, but to no avail. He didn't know which he hated more; knowing the truth of the Reapers, which was nightmare stuff already, or the wait for their arrival, always expecting them to emerge from slip-space at any minute. He kept picturing what he would do should he come across a Reaper now; most of them involved using the main guns of his ship to reduce the creatures to dust, but he always had the horrible nagging feeling that they would scatter him to the opposite ends of the galaxy before he could get a shot off.

Then there was the matter of Cerberus. Telek was particularly determined to find them and make them suffer for their crimes. He had considered Lord Hood to be one of his few truly good friends among the humans, a man who did not deserve the terrible fate that Cerberus had concocted. He had gotten too close to uncovering their work on an illegal program to create super-soldiers, and they had executed him for it. Telek was using the time he had during the wait for the Reapers to try to locate them, but he was having even less success than Kiryuu was. While their activities were not unheard of, nobody seemed to have any idea how they operated. They only knew the results of Cerberus' activities; information on their actual processes was thin on the ground. There was no doubt that they were professionals; they had covered their tracks well.

His one consolation was that, in the two years since the Battle of the Citadel, he had been able to recover his ship, the super carrier known as the _Shadow of Darkness_. Now he had two super carriers – immense Sangheili ships that measured roughly 27 kilometres in length – in the fleet; the second one, the _Silent Wrath_, was now under the command of the human Tom Jimenez. He reasoned that a second super carrier was a worthy trade-off for the ships that Sovereign had destroyed two years ago, though he knew nothing could replace the souls of those ships or their crews.

He had to admit that he had been rather surprised when Alan had contacted him, saying that he had information that could lead them to Cerberus at long last. It had been so long since they had started the hunt that he had not been expecting anything to come of their search. Alan was supposed to be the most discreet member of the fleet, but these days discretion was difficult; the Fleet Shadow of Fury had played a key role in the Battle of the Citadel, and now their names were known throughout much of the civilised galaxy. None of the members of the Fleet were comfortable with this, especially not Telek.

Now the fleet was moving through a distant part of the Omega Nebula. All of the fleet were thankful for the advanced stealth systems that Sangheili dreadnoughts came equipped with; though they could easily dispatch any raiders who dared to take them on, they didn't want to attract attention which would almost certainly alert Cerberus to their presence. Telek sat in his command chair in the cavernous bridge of the _Shadow of Darkness_, shaking his head in disbelief as he addressed Alan, who was stood beside him.

"You do realise this may be a trap, right, kid?" he asked. "This is Aria T'Loak we're talkin' about here; the Pirate Queen of Omega herself."

"It's the only big lead we've had in two years, Telek," Alan replied. "I can't think of a better idea right now." He leaned in closer to Telek's chair. "How many people know you spent time on Omega?"

"What if I did?" Telek retorted. "Ya thought all Sangheili came out of a mould, ready for the army? Hard to believe now, but I was young once, had ideas for my life that didn't involve the army. Took me a while to figure out fightin's the only thing I'm good at." He shook his head and leaned closer to Alan. "Sounds like Aria's as much of a bitch now as she was back in the days before the Covenant War. I'd sooner toss her out of an airlock than trust her."

"That's your answer for everything," Alan snorted. "Didn't you threaten to throw the galley chef out of the airlock because your meals had too much salt? What did you expect from military rations? Your chefs may be good, but they're not miracle workers."

"I'm in the hot seat, son," Telek retorted, his four mandibles twisting into a smirk. "I'm allowed to demand more than I'll get." He turned towards the helm and shouted down. "Hey, Tweedle Dee! Anything out there?" In spite of being one of the most respected Supreme Commanders in the Sangheili forces, Telek was never one for formality.

"Still nothing," replied Joli, the helmsman on duty. "This part of the cluster's dead. Aria's led us... what's the expression... 'up the primrose path'." Just as he finished saying this, however, there was a noise coming from his scanner and he nearly toppled out of his seat in surprise.

"You were saying?" barked Telek.

"Looks like I spoke too soon," muttered Joli. He wasn't often wrong, and he hated admitting it when he was. "I'm definitely picking up something now, something big. If it wasn't so far off the beaten path, somebody would have picked it up before now."

"Okay, Joli," said Telek. "You know what to do next." He transmitted to the other three ships in the fleet. Telek's small band didn't comprise the whole fleet; he preferred to work only with those he implicitly trusted. "Cujo, Tulsa, Tom, stay close and stay sharp," he said.

"_Roger, Telek,"_ replied Cujo 'Mentatal, Shipmaster of the _Divine Journey_.

"_At once, Excellency,"_ said Tulsa 'Durosh, Shipmaster of the _Righteous Fury_.

"_Understood, Skipper,"_ said Tom Jimenez, Shipmaster of the _Silent Wrath_.

Joli didn't need to be told where to send the _Shadow of Darkness_ next. He immediately set a course for the new signal on his scanners. It took time to reach the source, as the ships didn't enter slip-space; if they did, they would have to go out of stealth to do so, rendering them visible to anyone who happened to be watching the area. Activating their slip-space drives would be like setting off a flare in space. After a while, as quickly as their engines would allow, Joli finally had more news.

"We're close enough for a visual now, Excellency," he said.

"Well, what are ya waitin' for?" bellowed Telek. "Let's have a look!"

Seconds later, an image appeared on the large holographic display. It showed a small space station, roughly cross-shaped, floating in the void. The lights on the station were still on. On each of the small 'wings' Alan saw the familiar Cerberus logo; the same that Alan had seen on the scans Aria provided. Telek narrowed his eyes and gave a satisfied smile.

"Gotcha," he muttered. "Joli, bring up the Luminary. Let's see what we're up against. I don't expect there to be any non-humans on board."

The Luminary was a Covenant scanner, modelled after Forerunner technology, that allowed the user to scan for any signs of the Reclaimers; the Forerunner term for humans. This technology had allowed the Covenant to locate and attack human colonies without the need to take prisoners for interrogation. Joli activated the device, and was surprised to find that he wasn't picking up any Reclaimer readings at all.

"That's strange..." he said. "There's no sign of any humans on the station. As a matter of fact, there's no sign of anything living on that station at all."

"Ah, damn," Telek grunted. "I'd hoped to give the bastards a taste of the plasma cannons."

"On the plus side," Alan chimed in, "this does make things a lot easier if we're going to do some snooping." He had the feeling that Telek was sorely tempted to destroy the station there and then, but if they did they would lose a golden opportunity to take a closer look at Cerberus' operations. "If there's a chance of there being any useful intel in there," he said, "we've got to take it."

"Point taken," said Telek, rising from his chair. "We'll go across in the _Serenity_." He pressed a button on his chair, opening a communication channel. "Shri, get up to the bridge. Alan and I are heading over to that station. You've got the com until we get back."

"_Understood, Telek,"_ came the voice of Shri 'Canthon, Telek's Special Operations commander and one of the few female Sangheili on board. _"Just remember, no matter how tempted you might be, don't beat Dorva to a bloody pulp."_

"Thanks, Mom," Telek grunted, closing the channel. Even in the two years since Dorva's addition to Alan's crew, Telek hadn't felt any need to treat the Sangheili with respect. He hadn't forgotten how Dorva's mistake had almost cost Telek his freedom.

"Let's just go, shall we?" asked Alan dryly. Bringing Telek on board the _Serenity_ always felt to Alan like a time-bomb waiting to go off, and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

So it was that, ten minutes later, the _Serenity_ had flown away from the fleet and was entering the space station via the shuttle docking bay. They were fortunate to find any space to land the ship, for the hangar was practically full of Kodiak shuttles. This was Alan's first sign that they were not to expect survivors in any corner of the galaxy. He, Telek and Call stepped out of the ship and into the hangar; Call had agreed to come along in case she was needed to extract any sensitive data, in spite of initial objections.

"I'm not a fucking Omni-Tool, Captain," she had grunted. Ever since Bishop's 'death', Call had become more sensitive about anyone treating her as an AI. Alan couldn't help but wonder how many other AIs had fought like cornered wolverines against their nature, and indeed their eventual fate. Ever since he had met Kiryuu all those centuries ago, he had wondered if giving a machine emotions and a personality was a new form of cruelty.

All three drew their weapons of choice and carefully made their way across the hangar, carefully peering into every corner and searching for any sign of an ambush. The hangar was filled not only with the shuttles, but with all manner of cargo crates that would make for ideal hiding places.

They eventually found their way to the upper catwalks, where they found the remains of various LOKI-class mechs scattered around the place. The robots were humanoid-shaped, painted black and white and with only a pair of circular lights where their faces should be. After the Battle of the Citadel and the enormous loss of life in the battle, the robots had been mass-produced as expendable shock troopers to limit the number of battlefield casualties. The robots had suffered varying degrees of damage; some of them had their heads blown neatly off, while others had lost limbs. The area was also covered in blast burns and bullet holes.

"Looks like there's been quite a fight in here," Alan remarked. "Somebody had to have got off this station."

"I'd say all the shuttles here put a dent in that theory," said Telek, sounding rather hopeful.

Stepping out of the hangar, the trio soon found themselves in a procession of long, surgically-white corridors, broken up every now and then by an engine room or laboratory. The place was completely deserted, and most of the doors had been locked down, preventing further exploration of the station. It seemed like the personnel had tried to seal something in one part of the station, but had not had much success. Some of the doors and glass windows dividing corridors had been smashed open. The wreckage of destroyed security mechs was everywhere. The lights flickered in some of the corridors, and there were sounds of distant fire alarms. In some of the corridors they found bodies of human men and women dressed in smart black-and-white uniforms emblazoned with the Cerberus logo, ravaged by bullet-holes. Whatever had happened here it was intense and fairly recent. Something else Alan noticed was that Cerberus' logo was everywhere, engraved on the walls.

"They're not so quick to hide themselves out here, are they?" Alan commented.

"The bastards are obviously bolder in the Terminus Systems," Telek snarled. "They're way beyond the reach of the Alliance and the Council out here."

Making their way through the station, they eventually came across a small side-room, piled high with charts and diagrams. Most of these seemed to focus on X-Rays of a human body, the skeleton thoroughly shattered. Other diagrams displayed a charred body, blackened and ravaged to the point where it was impossible to even tell what gender the victim had once been. A variety of printouts referenced medical terms and formulas. Alan skimmed some of them, but couldn't for the life of him decipher them. Some of them seemed to have been written in code.

"Call, can you make any sense of this?" he asked.

"No, Captain," replied Call, looking at some of the files and appearing to be just as confused as Alan was. She moved over to a small terminal and tapped away at the keyboard, various files flashing up on the screen. "This looks like someone's personal log though. Let me see if I can decrypt it." She raised her commlink, bringing up the holographic controls of the Omni-Tool function and setting up a wireless link. Within seconds she had cracked the decryption.

"They really weren't trying very hard," she said, rather smugly. "I've got an audio log here..." She started to play the recording, which turned out to be the personal log of one of the staff on this station, as a gravel-voiced man proceeded to speak his mind;

"_Log update: the cost of this project is astronomical – over four billion credits so far. But nobody seems to care that we've gone over budget. I don't know where the boss gets all his money... Maybe it's better not to know. I just wish he'd kick a little more in my direction once in a while._

"_Log update: I can't figure Miranda out. As project director, she should be ecstatic at all the progress we've made. But she's still the same old ice queen. Maybe she's worried Shepard might become the new favourite. Or maybe she's just a pure, cold-hearted bitch."_

"Hold it right there..." said Alan suddenly, prompting Call to pause the recording. At first the mutant thought his ears needed testing. He couldn't possibly have heard the name he thought he had heard. Looking at both Call and Telek, he could see that they were as shocked as he was, forcing him to face the conclusion that he hadn't heard things.

"Shepard?" Alan asked, bemused. "But didn't she die two years ago? Why's this guy talking about her as if she's still around?"

"On that note," Call chimed in, "why's he talking as if Shepard is part of Cerberus? This log's dated only a few months ago. She knew what they are and what they did; why the hell would she ever join them?"

"It has to be a coincidence," said Telek forcefully. "He probably means someone who has a similar surname."

"That'd be a hell of a coincidence," said Alan. "We should try and get a look at the personnel files of the station, just to rule it out."

"Whatever makes ya feel better, kid," Telek drawled, clearly settled on the idea of the name being purely coincidental. "Let's see what else we can find."

The trio carefully stepped back out into the corridor, and began to move towards the opposite door. It was then that Alan suddenly stood still, turning towards the wall further down the corridor. He was sure that he had heard noises from the other side of the wall, like loud footsteps. All of a sudden there was a loud explosion and the trio were almost thrown off their feet as the wall suddenly blasted inward, pieces of it flying straight at them. Even before the dust cleared, however, they were forced to dive out of the way as something sent a spray of high-velocity bullets straight at them.

Crouching behind the corner close to the door, Alan peeked out for a moment to see that the attacker was a YMIR-class mech. These hulking monstrosities had the same black and white colour scheme as the smaller LOKI mechs, but were much larger and bulkier, resembling gorillas in Alan's mind. Each carried a large mass-accelerator gun and a rocket launcher, and they were often used for excavation projects as well as heavy artillery. It had burst through the wall from the adjacent room, which from the brief glimpse Alan saw looked like a set of offices.

"Just great..." Alan grunted as the mech sent a missile straight towards him. It hit the wall further down the corridor, the resounding explosion almost deafening Alan. Looking beside him he saw Call frantically pressing buttons on her Omni-Tool, a hologram displaying a miniature version of the robot.

"I'm trying to hack it," she called above the cacophony of another burst of rounds from the cannon, "but something's wrong! There's some kind of algorithm that I can't break! Let me try to-"

"Wait!" Alan called, looking behind Call and noticing something was wrong. "Where's Telek?" The Sangheili had vanished from view completely, and for one minute Alan was afraid that he had been gunned down. When he noticed a gap in the machine's gunfire, he dared to peek around the corner.

As he did so, he suddenly saw the gun-arm of the immense mech drop off and hit the floor with a resounding crash. Seconds later, the other arm dropped off and sparks shot out of the stump. The robot's head moved around stupidly, the two red "eyes" unblinking. All of a sudden the eyes switched off and sparks flew out of the neck as the head suddenly dropped to the floor, the glass on the face smashing at it hit the floor.

As a loud beeping noise increased in pitch and tempo, Alan saw the faintest glimpse of distortion in the environment; the tell-tale sign of someone using optic camouflage. As the beeping grew louder, something suddenly pushed him back around the corner, and not a moment too soon, for all of a sudden the robot's body exploded with the force of a miniature nuclear bomb, lighting up the corridor so brightly that everyone had to shield their eyes.

As the explosion subsided, Alan could hear little except a loud ringing in his ears, and for a moment he was sure he had gone deaf. Looking in front of him, he saw Telek flicker into view, his optic camouflage deactivating, showing him standing protectively over both Alan and Call. Shaking, Alan tried to drag himself to his feet as Telek pulled Call onto hers.

"What the fuck do those things use as power cores?" Telek grumbled. "I must have overloaded it when I chopped its head off. What kind of droid has a nuke for a power source?"

"Well, I can at least tell you one thing about what happened here," said Call, still rubbing her eyes even as she tried to bring up lines of code on the display of her Omni-Tool. "I got a good look at the robot's programming code. The Identify Friend-Foe codes are non-existent. If these robots were meant to be security on the station, then somebody must have sabotaged the system. Without that IFF the mechs wouldn't be able to pick out friendlies from intruders."

"That would explain why they abandoned the place," mused Alan. "Or got wiped out."

"Hopefully the latter," grunted Telek as the trio stepped towards the next door. As they did so, however, Telek received a signal on his commlink.

"_Telek! Come in Telek!"_ said Shri's voice in an urgent tone. _"Do you read me?"_

"What's wrong, Shri?" Telek asked, raising his commlink towards his mouth.

"_I don't mean to rush you,"_ said Shri, _"but we just picked up a ship on our scanners, heading for the station. We did a surface scan of the ship; it's a Cerberus vessel."_

"Shit..." muttered Telek. "Have they caught sight of you?"

"_No,"_ replied Shri. _"We're in full cloak right now and the heat sinks are active. If they found anything that can pierce our cloaking technology, they deserve to catch us. You'd better be careful; they're sending a shuttle to dock with the station now, on the far side of where you entered."_

"Roger that, Shri," said Telek, before signing off.

"Good thing we didn't use any of the external docking cradles," said Alan. "That's bought us a bit of time before they realise anyone's on board."

"I'll go keep an eye on them," said Telek. "The station's not very large; I'll find 'em in seconds. You two keep exploring here and keep me in the loop."

"You got it," said Alan. "Be careful."

"I didn't get to where I am by bein' careful, kid," Telek chuckled. Activating his camouflage once again, he set off through the hole made by the YMIR mech, while Alan and Call continued to explore the area.

Telek worked his way through the station, passing a variety of offices and laboratories. The contents were rather sparse, with little to no personalisation in them. In one office he did notice a desk that had one or two photographs of a human family, including young children. It made Telek feel sick to his stomach; knowing the kind of people that Cerberus recruited as a pro-human group, he felt sorry for the children that would have to be raised by the hateful attitudes of their parents in Cerberus. He recalled how, during their time in the Covenant, Sangheili young had been raised to hate humans and prepare them for a war which they would not question. Shaking himself, he moved on and opened a channel to Alan, speaking quietly in case anyone was nearby.

"You found anythin', kid?" he asked.

"_Nothing more than what we've seen so far,"_ replied Alan. _"Some scorching from fires and a lot of smashed mechs. We're in some sort of observation area; there are windows looking down on what looks like an operating theatre. A lot of heavy-duty equipment in there. We'll go take a look."_

With that, he signed off. Telek continued his hunt, eventually reaching the upper level of a large common area. A number of tables and chairs were all around the area, along with a few potted plants and a large holographic display of the Earth as a centrepiece. Telek considered dropping down to the floor level for a moment, when he heard footsteps coming from outside the room.

Crouching on one of the walkways, Telek saw the doors to the room open below him, and several soldiers rushed in. He noticed that all of their armour and helmets had the same black and white colour scheme of the uniforms the station personnel had been wearing, complete with the Cerberus logo emblazoned on their breast-plates. All of them were heavily armed with assault rifles and grenade launchers. Clearly they expected trouble, and if there were still mechs running loose on the base Telek didn't doubt that they were spooked enough to shoot anything that moved.

"Secure the area," he could hear their squad leader saying as the soldiers fanned out across the room. "Get the charge controls up."

As Telek watched, the squad leader (at least he assumed it was; their uniforms looked identical) approached the hologram in the centre of the room, activating a concealed control panel. The hologram of Earth faded, replaced by a number of screens. Telek couldn't tell what they said from this distance, but after the soldier had fiddled about with the controls for a few minutes he suddenly learned what it was they were doing. An electronic voice suddenly sounded over the station's PA system.

"_Auto-destruct sequence engaged,"_ said the voice. _"Fifteen minutes silent countdown. There will be no further warning."_

"That's the scuttle charges set," said the squad leader. "Now back to the shuttle, on the double, people!"

So Cerberus clearly didn't want to leave this station out in the open for anyone to find. Telek chuckled to himself at the thought that they were already too late. He was sure that Alan and Call had heard the announcement on the other side of the station, and were already on their way back to the ship. He was about to just let the Cerberus squad leave and go rejoin the others, but on the other hand he couldn't resist taking out some pent-up aggression on them and showing Cerberus that he was not to be messed with.

While cloaked, he dropped down from the walkway, landing neatly behind one of the soldiers. The human's back went straighter, and he began peering around; he must have heard the muffled sound of Telek's feet hitting the floor. Without hesitation, Telek ignited his plasma sword and thrust it straight into the hapless soldier's midsection. The soldier gave a horrible rattling noise before his body went limp. Tossing it aside, Telek saw the other soldiers now spinning around to see their companion's sudden death, all of them looking horrified.

The squad leader's eyes went wide as he turned to check out what the noise was. All of a sudden another of his men suddenly got cut down, as what looked like a glowing blue sword, crackling with plasma energy, seemed to move about of its own accord and strike him down. His men were now starting to panic and fire wildly as the sword faded out of view, but as he looked he saw the back wall warp slightly. This told him all he needed to know.

"Active camouflage!" he shouted. "Switch your visors to thermal viewing! Shoot the Elite bastard!"

_Ah, hell..._ Telek thought, as the soldiers tapped their visors and suddenly fired in his direction. His cloaking technology didn't stop his body from radiating heat. Feeling the bullets bouncing off his shields, Telek braced himself. One of them was bound to get a lucky shot, and if he didn't get his next move right it was all over.

"Command," shouted the squad leader into his Omni-Tool, "we have intruders in the Lazarus station! Watch for hostile ships-"

However, he never got to finish his sentence. Telek focused and moved at a blinding speed, dashing between each soldier and cutting them all down quickly as he advanced. All they saw was a blue blur before each had their lives snatched from them. The last to go was the squad leader, with Telek spinning round and neatly decapitating the soldier. His training in the Sangheili martial art of Para'rothu had served him well, giving him deadly proficiency with the blade, even when all around him persisted on using guns. Although powerful, it carried no end of risks; if he had messed it up then he was sure that he would be nothing but a corpse riddled with bullet-holes by now.

As he left the common room he regretted his decision to attack the squad. He didn't doubt that a ship would be waiting for the soldiers outside, and would no doubt have got the squad leader's warning. They would certainly be on the lookout for any ships, even cloaked ones, and would definitely spot the _Serenity_ as soon as she left the hangar. He had faith in Shri, and was sure that she would be on the lookout for any trouble. He radioed Alan as he began the sprint back to the shuttle bay.

"Alan," he called, "tell me you're headed back to the ship now!"

"_Yeah, we heard the announcement,"_ replied Alan in a strained voice. _"Hurry up, Call!"_

_"Just a few more seconds!"_ said Call's voice faintly. _"I'm just about finished with the download!"_

"_We'll be there!"_ Alan called, in what he clearly hoped was a reassuring tone.

Telek sighed as he ran. While he had the philosophy of never leaving anybody behind, he wondered if he would have any other choice. Clearly they had found something important if they felt it necessitated putting their lives at risk, and now that this mission had been complicated considerably he hoped it would be worth all the trouble.

"Shri!" he called into his commlink. "They're onto us! You got a lock on 'em?"

"_We can't get a good angle from here,"_ came Shri's reply. _"We'll try to move in closer."_

Feeling less confident, Telek was the first to reach the _Serenity_. He tried not to double over, even though his heart was pounding, fit to burst. Five minutes later he saw Alan, half-dragging Call with him. The pair of them made it back to the ship with mere minutes to spare.

"Alistair, get us outta here!" Alan called into his commlink as he threw Call towards the door to the common room and sealed the hangar door and airlock. The ship's engines started up, and Alan was nearly thrown around the cargo hold as it lurched upwards and sped away towards the force-field separating the hangar from the vacuum of space.

"Come on, come on..." Telek snarled as the ship sped back out into space. If he remembered right, there was less than a minute to go before detonation, and he doubted that the _Serenity_ could get to a safe distance in that time.

"_Captain, we've got a problem!"_ Alistair barked through the ship's intercom. _"Shri told us about the Cerberus ship. It's coming about, bearing right towards us!"_

Alan and Telek dashed up to the cockpit, just as Alistair banked the ship hard to the right, narrowly dodging a laser blast that had come straight for them from a larger, Cerberus-branded vessel. It was moving to block their escape. Suddenly streams of plasma fire erupted out of nowhere, striking the ship and tearing it apart. As the _Serenity_ sped onwards, Telek checked the chronometer on his commlink.

"That should be it..." he said quietly, and indeed as Alistair spun the ship around for a look they saw the space station be engulfed from within by a series of explosions. Within seconds it was completely annihilated, in a blast so bright that the cabin was filled with dazzling light and the group had to shield their eyes. There was no sound out in space, but Alan imagined that if there was the explosion could be heard all over the cluster.

"Shri," said Telek grumpily, "don't cut it so fine next time, ya hear me?"

"_I couldn't resist making bird-boy sweat a little,"_ said Shri. _"Good to know you all got outta there alright."_

"Nice to know where I stand after all these years, Shri," replied Alistair in a huff. Alan often wondered if Shri had ever forgiven the _Serenity_ crew for almost killing Telek when they first met. They had attacked Telek to try and save Dorva, but they had never intended to knock him off a building and send him crashing onto a set of pipes below.

"_I'll see you soon, Telek,"_ said Shri, choosing to ignore Alistair.

"Ya find anythin' in there?" Telek asked Alan.

"We certainly did," replied Alan. "Call's got all the data we pulled from the labs on her commlink. I figured we'd all have a look at it on the _Shadow of Darkness_." He pulled a small vial out of a pouch on his hardsuit belt, holding it up for Telek to see. "We found this in a safe as well. Call managed to crack it open."

Telek peered at the vial. Inside it was a single tooth; a human premolar, to be exact, complete with an intact root. It was floating in what looked like some kind of preservation gel. He shook his head, puzzled.

"Why would they have something like this?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Alan, looking just as puzzled as Telek felt. "Somehow though, I can't shake the feeling that this should mean something to me..."


	6. The Worst Kind of Reunion

**The Worst Kind of Reunion**

As soon as they arrived back on the _Shadow of Darkness_, Alan and Telek hurried to the bridge to examine what they had found. Alan had left the strange tooth with Call on the _Serenity_ so she could run further tests in the medical bay, but it still troubled him. He couldn't say for certain why it did; it was a strange nagging feeling that he had in the back of his mind that just would not leave him.

"You know we're gonna have to share all this with Kiryuu, right?" asked Telek once he was back in his command chair. "I'm still his privateer, after all, though I reckon he's feelin' like he's wasted his credits over the past two years."

"I suppose so," replied Alan. "Let's just hope he doesn't overload his circuits from shock or something."

Telek opened a channel to the Utah Foundation of Bio-Organic Research on Earth, as that was where Kiryuu spent most of his time these days; at least it had been the last time Telek had felt any need to contact him. At first it seemed as if he was elsewhere, but after a few minutes Kiryuu finally answered the hailing. His face on the holographic display looked haggard, as if he had only just woken up.

"_Telek?"_ asked Kiryuu in a rather strained voice. _"Do you have any idea what time it is here?"_

"Well, pardon me for breaking up yer beauty sleep," Telek drawled nonchalantly. "We've got news that can't wait, though. Go ahead, Alan," he finished, nodding at the mutant.

Taking his cue, Alan removed a small data card from his commlink and plugged it into a terminal on the console by Telek's chair. As the data was transmitted, Kiryuu's brow furrowed as he looked at the various files and images he was now seeing.

"All pulled straight from a Cerberus facility in the Omega Nebula," said Alan. "We took a look at it, but it seems like most of the files are encrypted. We figured that would be your area of expertise."

"_So I see,"_ nodded Kiryuu, sounding impressed. He shook his head as he looked at the encrypted data. _"I have never seen such sophisticated encryptions, though. They clearly expected me to try hacking their databases at some point. I don't know how long it will take me to decrypt the data files. Images and personal logs will be easier, but they won't reveal as much. Let me see..."_

Things went quiet for a few moments while Kiryuu concentrated. Alan started to get impatient, looking back towards the corridor leading to the hangar bay. He wanted to get back out there and begin the hunt for any more Cerberus facilities. He was sure that Kiryuu would send him any leads he was able to find, and he didn't like the idea of waiting. Looking at Telek it was clear that the old Sangheili didn't either, but eventually Kiryuu nodded firmly.

"_I've been able to recover some of the files with weaker decryption,"_ he said. _"I have what look like in-progress photographs and scraps from a personal log belonging to a Miranda Lawson. I'm transmitting the log now."_

A second screen appeared, showing a woman who Alan presumed to be Miranda Lawson. She was a pale-skinned woman with long black hair and features that struck Alan as being rather hard. Her first entry was dated a little over two years ago:

"_Test subject has been recovered, thanks to the efforts of Dr. T'Soni, but the damage is far worse than we initially feared. In addition to the expected burns and internal injuries from the explosion, subject has suffered significant cellular breakdown due to long-term exposure to vacuum and sub-zero temperatures. Despite the extent of the physical trauma, Wilson assures me subject is salvageable. The Lazarus Project will proceed as planned."_

The second entry began to play immediately, dated roughly a year after the previous entry:

"_Progress is slow, but subject shows signs of recovery. Major organs are again functional, and there are signs of rudimentary neurological activity. In an effort to accelerate the process, we've moved from simple organic reconstruction of the subject to bio-synthetic fusion. Initial results show promise."_

The final entry to be played was dated only a few months ago:

"_Physical reconstruction of the subject is complete, but we still need to evaluate all mental and neurological functions. Our orders were clear; make Commander Shepard who she was before the explosion – the same mind, the same morals, the same personality. If we alter her identity in any way, if she's somehow not the woman she used to be, the Lazarus Project will have failed. I refuse to let that happen."_

Neither Alan nor Telek could believe their ears. What Miranda was describing sounded outside any realm of possibility. Kiryuu was now sifting through the photo files he had been able to salvage, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"Kiryuu..." Alan breathed, unable to believe he was going to ask the question on his mind. "Is this what I think it is? Could Cerberus really have brought Shepard back from the dead?"

"_It would explain the name of the project,"_ said Kiryuu. _"It also ties in with some worrying rumours that Anderson has been relaying to me from the Citadel. The rumours persisted that Shepard was alive and working for Cerberus. I refused to believe them, but it looks like the truth of the matter is in these files."_ He showed some of the photos on the second screen, most of which showed the same scorched human body they had seen images of in the lab. As they watched, the photos reflected the passage of time as the skin became whole, the muscles were restored and the blood flow was restarted. The photos were largely close-ups, but time gradually revealed the woman known as Kaelyn Shepard being restored before their eyes.

"What the hell kind of technology is this?" asked Telek. "Why would they do this? We heard in the base that they funnelled a lotta credits into this. What's so special about Shepard that they'd bring her back?"

"_I have no idea,"_ said Kiryuu. _"I would need to see Shepard with my own eyes to determine if they were successful in bringing back the woman we remember, but these images all seem definite. Commander Shepard is alive once again."_ He furrowed his brow in puzzlement, staring hard at the images. _"From what I can tell from these images, they reconstructed the skin, used cybernetic implants to reconstruct the skeleton, and this liquid they used somehow restarted the organs and blood flow. I cannot imagine how they achieved this; it should not have been feasible at all."_

"You think it could have anything to do with that tooth you found?" Telek suddenly asked Alan.

"_Tooth?"_ asked Kiryuu. _"What tooth?"_

_The whole tooth and nothing but the tooth_, thought Alan, resisting the urge to say it out loud.

"We found a human tooth kept in some kind of preserving gel," he said. "It was pretty well concealed too, in a safe in that operating theatre we found. I can't help but think..." He then paused, his eyes widening. He raised a finger to his mouth and began to feel around his own teeth, which were now nothing but sharp fangs after his mutation. A horrible thought had entered his mind which he didn't want to believe, but the theory fit all of the evidence.

"Oh no..." he breathed. "It can't be..."

"Alan?" asked Telek, peering at him. "What's wrong, kid? Your scales are startin' to go pale."

"I've figured it out," said Alan, looking grave. "I know how they got this Lazarus Project off the ground." He brought up his commlink and opened a channel back to the _Serenity_. "Call, have you finished your analysis of that tooth yet?"

"_Yes, Captain,"_ replied Call. _"You won't believe the cells that are on this thing! They're like nothing that exists in any known medical or scientific journals!"_

"Patch through to Kiryuu's channel and send him the data," barked Alan.

"_Uh, sure, Captain,"_ replied Call, sounding disconcerted.

"_Alan, what is this all about?"_ asked Kiryuu.

"Kiryuu," Alan replied, "if I'm right, you'll see for yourself!" On the screen, Kiryuu turned to look at the new file. As he read it, his expression grew darker and darker.

"_If I ever get my claws on the Illusive Man..."_ he snarled, looking as if he would explode into a towering rage at any second.

"Can someone tell me what the hell's going on?" barked Telek.

"_See for yourself,"_ grunted Kiryuu. Another holographic display appeared, showing a variety of cells and amino acids. One cell was a stark white colour, with three strands leading off it.

"_That cell was discovered in the early 21__st__ century by Dr. Yuji Shinoda,"_ said Kiryuu, his eyes narrowed. _"He named it 'Organiser G-1', as he believed that seeing their powers of rapid healing and restoration, even from the most badly-damaged tissue, was like witnessing it 'organising' the building blocks of life. Only one species carries it in its genetic structure..."_

Telek looked between Kiryuu and Alan, both of whom had identical dark looks. The light of understanding dawned in his eyes.

"G-Cells?" he ventured. "They used G-Cells in the project? Of course, I should have remembered that legalities really don't matter to them."

"_It's the only explanation that fits,"_ said Kiryuu. _"G-Cells have been used in the Lazarus Project. There is no other way that they could have restored Shepard even after fatal injuries. The tooth that Call studied had them all over it."_

"It's all my damn fault..." Alan suddenly cut in.

"_Alan?"_ said Kiryuu.

"It's one of my teeth," Alan groaned. "Back when I was still human. The last place I was in when my mutations kicked in was the Xanatos building in New York back in the 21st century. I remember now... One of my teeth fell out... If Xanatos kept a hold of it all this time..." He moved over to the console and suddenly thumped it, his face a look of anguish. "It's all my fucking fault!"

"_Alan, there was no way you could have known,"_ said Kiryuu gently, before turning back to Telek. _"David Xanatos was an extremely successful businessman... and a very dangerous individual. If he had the tooth, it might have been passed down through his family. He must have known that he would never be able to turn the research into anything useful in his lifetime. All those generations of research into G-Cells, taking place right under my nose... Now it seems they have perfected their research. Shepard's resurrection is the final result of all that work. David Xanatos is probably laughing at us from beyond the grave."_

"But won't she mutate?" asked Telek. "Isn't that why Alan got a full-body makeover? Somethin' about the cells rejectin' the host?"

"_There's no way to know for sure at this point,"_ said Kiryuu. _"If there had been complications, however, they almost certainly would have shown themselves during the regeneration process, as they did when the Japanese Crisis Control Intelligence agency ran their own experiments all those centuries ago. There does not appear to be any report of such, not in what I can understand, so there's a chance that they somehow perfected the formula. There is a good chance that she will have all of the benefits of G-Cells without the drawbacks. With that kind of power in their hands, there's no telling what they would do."_ He grunted and ran a claw through his dreadlocks. _"As if I needed any more reason to shut Cerberus down. There's a good reason G-Cell research is illegal. I can't stand the thought that my family's cells have been raped by Cerberus."_

"Wait a sec..." said Telek, scratching his mandibles. "If what ya say's true, and this Xanatos guy passed his research on to the next in line, won't we be able to ID someone in Cerberus that way?"

"_Good question,"_ said Kiryuu. He furiously examined another display, reading off a list of names. A few minutes later he had a triumphant look. _"I think I have something. I ran a trace of the Xanatos bloodline through birth records. The name faded over the years, but the family didn't. The last in line is a man named Jack Harper."_ He waved his claw over the display and pulled up a new document. _"Records indicate that he was part of a mercenary band during the Covenant War. This is interesting... In his last assignment, he was hired by Ashley Williams' grandfather."_

"Last assignment?" asked Alan.

"_He disappeared over twenty years ago,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Dropped right off the grid."_

"Three guesses as to where he went," snarled Telek. "You said Cerberus was once a UNSC black ops outfit, right? Everyone who worked for them wouldn't want their IDs to be common knowledge."

"_Exactly,"_ said Kiryuu. _"We can't prove that he's still alive, let alone involved in Cerberus, but the theory fits the evidence. It's given me a lead I can follow. I'll make some further enquiries into the life of this Jack Harper. I'll keep you both updated if I learn anything."_

"You do that," said Alan forcefully. "In the meantime I'll be making some enquiries of my own."

"Waddaya mean?" asked Telek, looking surprised.

"Didn't you hear what that Lawson woman said?" grunted Alan. "She named the person who supplied them with Shepard's body. I'm gonna fucking strangle her when I get my claws on her!"

"_I feel the same way, Alan,"_ said Kiryuu darkly. _"Reports indicate that she's on Illium, working as an information broker. I'd go confront her myself if I wasn't tied down with work. Just be careful, Alan; we both know what she's capable of."_

"I'd like to see her try anything," snarled Alan, storming off the bridge. Telek watched him leave, before turning back to Kiryuu, looking thoroughly confused.

"So who's this mutual acquaintance of yours?" he asked. "Who gave Shepard to Cerberus?"

"_Someone who fought beside Shepard in the Battle of the Citadel,"_ said Kiryuu, his voice full of bitterness. _"Someone I thought could be trusted... She's a young Asari archaeologist by the name of Dr. Liara T'Soni."_

"Asari, huh?" said Telek. "Ya reckon she ought to be put under Sangheili interrogation methods?"

"_That is very tempting,"_ said Kiryuu. _"However, she knows Alan. Maybe she'll respond better to him."_

"Let's pray she's got a damn good explanation ready," muttered Telek. "The kid looks like he's going to rip her throat out."

0

Illium was a planet located right on the border of the Terminus Systems, in the Crescent Nebula. Alan remembered going their seven years ago as a favour to his former shipmate, José Lovano. That was when they first encountered Telek, after it turned out both he and José were seeking Dorva, who was still on the run at the time and hiding out on Illium. Though Alan and Telek seemed to have reached a silent agreement never to discuss those events, Telek's continued passive-aggressiveness to Dorva showed that he would never let them forget.

Though the planet was not officially an Asari planet, the blue-skinned humanoids made up the bulk of the population, and it was a central point of Asari commerce. Trade regulations there were more lax to maintain competitiveness with the Terminus Systems; it was a common phrase in the galaxy that, on Illium, everything was legal except murder.

The capital, Nos Astra, was a clean, well-lit spaceport city, with high smooth skyscrapers and heavy traffic weaving to and fro amidst the skyways. It was here where the _Serenity_ landed. Alan decided to find Liara by himself while the rest went to do some sight-seeing; Alan reasoned that they wouldn't all need to be present. The way he was feeling at that point, his blood boiling, he knew that he didn't want the others present to witness anything in case he lost his temper, which he was sure he would do when he saw the young Asari who had betrayed them all.

Neither Alan nor Alistair could believe that they had to return to Illium after all this time, and indeed the hustle and bustle of the markets, with the various people milling about hadn't changed much since last time. Life had continued on here rather ordinarily. So as Alistair took the others to show them around the stalls, Alan made enquiries about Liara. It seemed that she was well-known in Nos Astra as being very capable at her job, though somewhat distant. Some spoke of her obsession with some personal agenda that she declined to share with others, stating that it detracted from her full potential. Alan could not believe just how casually the Asari talked about Liara, even though he was certain that her line of work would involve activities that the Council would consider somewhat less than legal. It was a sure sign of the looser idea of "law" that existed in the Terminus Systems.

He was pointed towards Liara's office, which overlooked the main trade floor. Heading up the flight of stairs leading to the office, Alan soon saw a small receptionist's desk just across from the door, manned by an Asari wearing a dark-coloured dress and with purple facial tattoos. The receptionist peered at Alan as he stormed up the stairs, clearly judging his rag-tag appearance of jeans and shirt as well as not being able to tell what species he was supposed to be.

"Can I help you, sir?" the receptionist asked.

"I need to talk to Liara T'Soni," Alan said gruffly. "I was told that this was her office."

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist replied in a rather snide tone.

"No," Alan barked, "and I'm not fucking sitting around waiting for one either!" Before the receptionist could protest, he marched straight to the door and banged on it loudly. "Liara!" he shouted. "I know you're in there! You've got some explaining to do!"

"Sir, please calm yourself!" the receptionist said indignantly. "If you leave your contact details with me, I'm sure Liara will-"

"_It's alright, Nyxeris,"_ a soft female voice suddenly said from the receptionist's desk. _"I know this... individual. Let him inside, and hold my calls."_

Nyxeris nodded, and pressed a button on the desk to open the door. She glared daggers at Alan as he stepped across the threshold and into a large, neatly-decorated office. A large desk was situated before a window which looked over the grand cityscape of Nos Astra. Standing behind the desk was the Asari that Alan was so determined to see; Liara T'Soni. She didn't look a day older from the last time Alan had seen her, maintaining the same slightly-freckled blue skin and wearing a long green and white dress. As the door closed, Alan saw her eyes go wide.

"Alan?" she asked. "Well, this is unexpected! I don't think we've spoken since the memorial service after the Battle of the Citadel!"

"I'm not here to reminisce, Liara," Alan spat bitterly. "What the hell were you thinking, handing Shepard over to those butchers in Cerberus?"

"What are you talking about?" Liara asked indignantly.

"Oh, don't play coy!" Alan shouted. "I've seen the station Cerberus was using. I know all about the Lazarus Project and how you were involved!"

"I have no idea what you... I mean... how dare..." Liara spluttered, but Alan noticed that she was avoiding his gaze. He was sure that she was lying through her teeth; it occurred to him that she had very little experience with lying, as she was so bad at it.

"I do fucking dare, Liara," Alan snarled, pointing accusingly. "Your name came up in Miranda Lawson's reports. They pretty much stated that you found Shepard's body and handed it over to Cerberus, so that they could carry out the Lazarus Project on her! You did this, knowing full fucking well what they are and what they've done in the past, instead of bringing her back home to be buried decently! You did all this behind everyone's backs, handing her over to an enemy of everything that we stand for!" He advanced on her, raising his claws menacingly. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart!"

"Alan, please!" Liara said firmly, her tone a mix of fear and authority. Her eyes started to glow, as did her body as she began to charge up her biotics. This ability by sentient species to manipulate dark energy was the nearest equivalent that many races had developed to magic.

"You have to understand what was going on then!" she said quickly. "So many things were out of my hands!"

"Oh, I bet this will be good..." Alan retorted, the sarcasm in his voice so thick you could caulk a shower with it. Liara sighed and moved around from behind the desk, closer to Alan.

"You can't imagine what it was like, to see the _Normandy_ destroyed," she began. "I watched from my escape pod as the ship went down with my commander, my best friend, on it. I knew I couldn't just leave her out there to the coldness of space. As soon as my affairs were in order I set out into the Terminus Systems to find her. I knew the chances of her survival were extremely slim, but if the worst came I did have every intention of seeing that she was brought home. I made contact with a former Shadow Broker operative, a Drell named Feron, who said he had a lead that would take me straight to Shepard."

The Drell were reptilian humanoids who resided on the Hanar homeworld of Kahje. The jellyfish-like Hanar had evacuated most of the race there after the Drell homeworld of Rakhana became uninhabitable.

"We weren't the only ones who were after Shepard," Liara continued morosely. "The Blue Suns had been hired by the Shadow Broker, and they had already found Shepard's body. That was when Cerberus approached us. The Illusive Man informed me that the Shadow Broker himself was just a pawn; he had been hired by the Collectors."

"What the hell are Collectors?" Alan interrupted.

"They're a race from beyond the Omega 4 Relay," said Liara. "They're so rarely seen, even in the Terminus Systems, that people in Council Space dismiss them as a myth. They turn up on Omega every few centuries to trade, giving others their technology in return for really strange requests. They request very specific life-forms like two dozen left-handed Salarians, a Krogan born to parents of two warring clans, Elcor who sing well, that kind of oddity. No-one knows what happens to the individuals who get traded, but since Collector technology is so far ahead of ours no-one seems to decline to carry out these trades. This time, they wanted Shepard's body, and the Illusive Man was sure that they were up to no good."

"So you just jumped right on board?" Alan snarled, shaking his head.

"I didn't do it for Cerberus, Alan," Liara snapped indignantly. "I did it for Shepard. It was either Cerberus or the Collectors; I had to go with the lesser of two evils."

"Then answer me this," Alan retorted. "If you were really planning a search-and-rescue, why not come to us for help? Why not get the old gang back together, or go to the UNSC?"

"I couldn't wait," Liara replied. "The Terminus Systems are outside the jurisdiction of both the Alliance and the Council. Shepard's team had all gone their separate ways after her death. There was nothing keeping us together. Besides, I didn't want to risk hurting people I care about.

"Anyway, Feron and I managed to find Shepard's body, just in time to stop the Shadow Broker's agents from handing her over to the Collectors. Feron bought me enough time to get the body and escape..." At this she went quiet for a moment, looking for a second as if she was forcing back tears before her face resumed a hardened expression. "That was why I became an information broker. I've been trying to track down the Shadow Broker for the past two years. I've got to make him pay for what he did, for selling his soul to the Devil and to avenge Feron."

"Alright, so you got Shepard away from the Shadow Broker," said Alan huffily. "So what the hell possessed you to turn the body over to Cerberus?"

"I had no choice," said Liara.

"Of course you fucking well did!" Alan roared. "You could have taken the body and run. We would have made sure you were safe!"

"You don't understand!" Liara snapped. "They told me about the Lazarus Project, and what it was capable of. They assured me they could bring her back..." She paused for a moment, gathering herself. "I knew Cerberus would have their own agenda, but if there was even the slightest chance they could bring her back, I had to take it. I couldn't let her go." There was a forlorn expression on her face as she closed her eyes, hanging her head. In that instant, something in Alan's mind snapped, and he felt as if the truth was painfully obvious.

"I am such an idiot," he growled. "I see what's going on here. I knew you were pining for Shepard, but I never thought you'd go to such lengths."

"What?" Liara breathed, looking at Alan as if he had just slapped her.

"Oh, come on, Liara!" Alan said scornfully. "I saw the way you kept looking at Shepard on both the _Normandy_ and at the memorial! You're not the first person in this galaxy to experience unrequited love, and you won't be the last. You've never really gotten over the fact that she got together with Kaidan, have you? So what was your plan through all this? Were you hoping that you could be the lone heroine, her knight in shining armour, and she'd drop everything and come crawling to you as her only 'loyal friend'? She'd have to be desperate to put up with this level of bullshit!"

Then, with a great roar of anger, Liara unleashed her biotics on him, her body glowing so brightly it was as if small blue flames were leaping off her body. She charged at Alan and swung her fist, striking him on the chin and sending him flying into the wall. Alan crumpled to the floor, shaking his head and feeling very sore. He was sure that Liara was holding back; if she wanted, she could have easily broken his neck with that biotically-enhanced punch. Liara advanced on him, glaring at him, shaking with unspeakable anger.

"How... how dare you!" she shrieked. "How dare you believe that I could be so selfish, so arrogant, so..."

"So..." Alan snarled. "So human?"

Liara's response was to kick Alan in the midsection, causing him to scrunch up into a foetal position. His coughs gradually gave way to laughter as Liara backed away, now shaking not from anger, but from nerves. The adrenaline she had gained was now wearing off. She leaned against the desk to steady herself while Alan pulled himself to his feet. Something he noticed was that now Liara was trying not to meet his eye. It seemed clear to him that he had touched a nerve.

"I've told you everything I know," she said coldly. "Now please leave. Tell Kiryuu Knight that I have my own problems, and if he tries to interfere I'll slap him with a biotic field so hard his AI core will be shattered."

"He doesn't take kindly to threats," Alan retorted. "I suggest you keep out of his way." He limped towards the door, and pressed the panel to open it.

"Alan..." Liara suddenly said, before he could step outside. "This was why I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want anyone to hate me for what I had done. I'd never forgive myself if Shepard found out the truth and hated me for it."

"That's out of my hands, isn't it?" Alan spat. "You made your bed, now go lie in it."

His wounds now healing, he returned to the main trading floor in a very foul temper. He could not believe Liara really had handed Shepard over to Cerberus. He didn't care what her reasons were; they were flimsy at best. As far as he was concerned, Liara's actions were inexcusable.

Rather than go back to the others straightaway, he decided to head to the bar known as Eternity, and get a few drinks into him. He remembered his old engineer, Rachel Tam, recommending the place after their last visit. Those days seemed much simpler, much more innocent, looking back on them now. He crossed the dimly-lit lounge, filled with its various alien patrons, and helped himself to a stool at the bar. As he sat there waiting to be served, he overheard an enviro-suited female Quarian talking to a male Turian close by.

"So then he says," the Quarian was saying, "'Oh, it's okay! Our amino acids are all different, so it's not like we'll get diseases or anything!' So then I had to explain about cross-species fluid contact. Completely killed the mood."

"I'm telling you," the Turian growled, "this is why you shouldn't date humans!"

"It's always the same," the Quarian groaned. "'Oh, she might get sick! She's vulnerable! I wonder what she looks like under the helmet!' I tell ya, I think I'm gonna just stop dating for a while."

"No, don't do that!" the Turian said. "Don't let some human spoil you!"

Deciding that this was something he really shouldn't be hearing, he turned his attention back to the bar, where the Asari bartender was approaching him.

"You look like you've had a rough day," she said, her voice sounding much rougher and more masculine than any Asari voice Alan had heard.

"That obvious, was it?" Alan groaned. "I don't know anyone who ever recovered from being stabbed in the back."

"Ah, life's a kick in the quad," said the Asari. "What can I get ya, honey?"

"The strongest liquor you have," replied Alan.

"I've got just the thing," said the bartender, pouring a blue liquid into a shot glass. "The only thing I've got that's stronger is a stash of ryncol behind the bar. That's quite the Krogan delicacy, but I wouldn't try to act tough; that crap would literally rot yer insides."

Paying for his drink, Alan knocked the shot back in one gulp. He shook himself, for the drink certainly was strong and left a spicy aftertaste. He was about to order another shot when he heard a familiar voice in the bar; a voice he was sure he would never hear again.

"I don't believe it..." the female voice said. "Is that you, Tyler?"

Turning to see the speaker, Alan's jaw almost hit the floor. For standing in the bar was a young human woman, Filipino-American in origin, wearing a standard army vest and slacks. The hair was short, with prominent bangs in front of her eyes and with the back slightly spiked up with gel. Her height was rather abnormal, as she was nearly seven feet tall, even taller than Alan by a few inches. With slight difficulty, Alan stood up from his stool and hobbled over to the woman, who was smiling coyly at him.

"Nicole?" Alan ventured, still aghast.

"Ah, so you do remember me," the woman chuckled. "It's not hard to pick you out of a crowd, Tyler; you're the only person I know with a tail."

There was a moment of silence, then the two of them burst out laughing. They grasped hands tightly, as if they were about to arm wrestle.

"How are you doing?" asked Alan, overjoyed. "It's so good to see you!"

"Wow, Malcho wasn't kidding," said Nicole in mock surprise. "You have changed over the past eight years. I remember when you were a snot-nosed, argumentative bastard."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Alan said sheepishly. "Can I get you a drink or anything?"

"I didn't come here just for the atmosphere," Nicole chuckled, as Alan led the way back to the bar.

"Same again, please," said Alan to the bartender as Nicole took a seat beside him. "And make it two."

As the Asari poured their drinks, Alan turned back to Nicole.

"I'm surprised Malcho talks about me," he said. "I'd have thought he'd try to pretend I don't exist whenever he doesn't need to see me."

"Well, we couldn't exactly miss the news about your part in the Battle of the Citadel," said Nicole. "The whole fleet's famous now, for better or worse."

"So how is Malcho these days, anyway?" asked Alan. "I haven't seen the old feather-duster in two years. I remember you two being close-knit though." At this Nicole punched him on the shoulder; not viciously, but still hard enough to make Alan's arm sore.

"Hey, it was never like that, and you know it," she said. "Anyway, he seems fine. He's been working on some big project for the past two years. Won't say anything about it even to me, but I can tell it's taking a lot outta him." She took a gulp of her drink and gasped. "Wow, this stuff's good."

"Best Asari liquor money can buy," the bartender chimed in.

"So anyway," said Alan, "what brings you out here?"

"Official business, I'm afraid," said Nicole. "You hear about those colonies that have been going missing in the Terminus Systems? A lot of human colonies have been attacked in the past two months, and tens of thousands of humans have gone missing in total."

"I think I remember seeing something on the news networks," Alan said thoughtfully. "No evidence of who or what's behind them, right?"

"Right," said Nicole. "That's what I'm here to find out. ONI is running an outreach program, trying to help get the Terminus colony defences up to scratch, and guess who's one of the ambassadors? It'd go a hell of a lot smoother if the colonists wanted our help. Anyway, they're sending me to the most recent colony to get hit; Freedom's Progress. We only found out about this a couple of hours ago, so we're gonna try and get any evidence we can before it goes cold."

"I'll come with you," said Alan. "I've been wanting to take a closer look at these abductions for a while, but I've been busy with one thing and another."

"You reckon _Serenity_'s up to the job?" asked Nicole wryly. "From what I hear, she's not much to look at."

"Looks can be deceiving," Alan replied. "We'll catch up some more on the way."

With that, the two of them were straight out of the bar and heading back to the _Serenity_. Alan couldn't help but be curious about the colony abductions now that he had a chance to investigate them, and if he knew his luck right they would turn out to be anything but straightforward.

0

The mighty space station known as the Citadel, the seat of galactic government, was still undergoing repairs after the devastating attack by Sovereign and the Geth two years ago. In spite of this, however, the inhabitants were acting as if nothing had happened; it had been two years since the attack, and now they seemed determined to return to their former lives of complacency, confident in their dominance of the galaxy. This was in spite of the noticeably increased security measures and tougher customs laws that had been put in place to try and prevent any possible infiltration by Geth units, even if most felt a Geth would stand out a mile.

As she wandered through the Presidium, which of course had been the first place to be repaired, Shepard couldn't help but wonder if they were all together in some kind of wilful ignorance. In spite of everything she had accomplished, it was apparent that no-one outside of select circles knew anything about the Reapers. As she wandered along the walkways beside the immense lake that ran right through the centre of the lush garden-like Presidium ring, she saw various people turning to whisper to their neighbours and give her odd looks. She imagined that it had to be a shock for them to see someone who was supposed to be dead walking about in their midst. She was thankful that Captain Bailey in C-Sec had saved her several days of paperwork and had re-instated her into the system without any fuss.

"I still say this is a waste of time," grumbled Jacob, who was keeping pace with Shepard as they headed towards the embassies. "We should be out there following up on those dossiers we were given. The Council will never agree to work with us."

"Look," said Shepard firmly. "I said I'd look into the abductions on Freedom's Progress. I've done that, and now that I know what's been happening I know that the Alliance has to be mobilised. Besides, Anderson invited me. He and I have been friends for a long time. I owe him an explanation."

"Suit yourself, Commander," said Miranda snottily. "The Illusive Man put you in charge of the mission, after all. If he's not going to try to stop you then Jacob and I sure as hell can't. If you think you can convince them to risk war with the Terminus Systems, then by all means."

Shepard frowned as she walked up the stairs to the UNSC embassy. It seemed that Anderson had decided to keep the ambassador's office, instead of moving into other quarters on the Citadel Tower. Come to think of it, Shepard was surprised that none of them had been arrested by C-Sec; neither Miranda nor Jacob was making any secret of who they worked for, as the symbol on their uniforms was a giveaway. Even as they approached the office door, voices could be heard coming from the other side.

"_This meeting would be more productive if Udina was to join us,"_ a woman's voice was saying.

"My advisor is unavailable," said a deep, strong voice that Shepard recognised to be Anderson's. "As Councillor, I represent the voice of humanity and the Orion Alliance. Shepard will be here any-"

He was interrupted as Shepard picked that moment to step into the office, noticing that the door wasn't locked. The office hadn't changed much, as it still contained a desk, several chairs, a large window that overlooked the whole Presidium and the logos of both the United Nations Space Command and the Orion Alliance painted on the back wall. The dark-skinned, smartly-suited Anderson cut an impressive figure, though his face showed more signs of age than before.

Against the back wall were holographic representations of the original three Council members. The Asari, Councillor Tevos, was once again wearing a beautiful gown of red and white, with white tattoos on her face. The Salarian, Councillor Ikram, was in his familiar black hooded robe lined with red and gold. The Turian, Councillor Valern, was in a smart red and blue suit, his scales dark with a cream tribal pattern tattooed across the face. All of them looked in Shepard's direction as she entered, with Miranda and Jacob tailing behind her.

"Oh, Commander!" said Anderson jovially. "We were just talking about you."

"It's been a long time, Anderson," said Shepard, beaming as the two shook hands firmly. "I hope the last couple of years have treated you right."

"There have been some rough spots," Anderson admitted. "It's good to have you back."

"_Welcome back to the Citadel, Shepard,"_ said Tevos politely, but her expression grew frosty as she eyed Jacob and Miranda. _"Though there was no need to bring an armed guard."_

"Councillors," said Shepard, nodding curtly. She had been dreading the day that she would have to deal with the Council again, especially as they had never been particularly helpful before. "Anderson," she continued, turning to her old friend, "this is Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor." Miranda nodded curtly while Jacob gave a respectful salute.

"Jacob Taylor..." murmured Anderson, looking thoughtful. "You were one of the Corsairs, correct?"

The Corsairs was a recent UNSC initiative; it was an attempt to create humanity's own version of the Council's elite Spectres, special agents who operated outside of regular military parameters.

"So someone does remember you, Jacob," Miranda said wryly.

"It's a shame you left, Mr. Taylor," said Anderson. "All your records showed that they lost a good man." He eyed the small Cerberus logo on Jacob's armour with a look of great disapproval. "Shame you're now working for the wrong people."

"_Which brings us to the point of this meeting,"_ Ikram suddenly interrupted. _"We've heard many rumours surrounding your unexpected return. Some of them are... unsettling."_

"_We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Shepard,"_ said Tevos. _"We owe you that much. After all, you did save our lives in the battle against Sovereign and the Geth."_

"What sort of rumours have you been hearing?" asked Shepard.

"_Namely the rumours that you have been alive and working with Cerberus over the past year,"_ Valern snarled.

"_The rumours appeared only sporadically,"_ Ikram chimed in, _"and we had no means of verifying them until now. However, they were still enough to cause consternation. Your present company would appear to confirm those rumours."_

"_You must admit that arriving on the station in a Cerberus-marked vessel,"_ said Tevos, _"with two Cerberus officers in tow, does not look good for your reputation. You would certainly have been arrested had we not intervened on your behalf."_

"_Under any other circumstances,"_ Valern grunted, _"your ship would have been shot down the minute it entered Citadel airspace. Now what could possibly drive you to work alongside a known enemy of the Council?"_

This news proved disconcerting for Shepard. Clearly they believed that she had faked her death and had been working for Cerberus all this time. She knew that she could not prove anything about the Lazarus Project; Cerberus would surely have destroyed all the evidence by now. Knowing that they would never believe that she had been dead for two years, she decided to press onto the real reason she was here.

"You know of the abduction of human colonists in the Terminus Systems over the past few months?" she asked. The Council nodded, acknowledging the matter. "The ones responsible are a race called the Collectors. We believe they're in league with the Reapers, and we're working to stop the attacks. I had hoped that we could find aid from the UNSC and the Council here."

"_The Terminus Systems are beyond our jurisdiction," _said Valern. _"Your colonists knew this when they left Council Space."_

"You're missing the important part, Councillor," said Anderson. "The Collectors are working with the Reapers."

"_Do you have any evidence of that?"_ asked Ikram.

"No..." Shepard admitted. She knew that the Illusive Man believed that the Collectors were working with the Reapers, but there was no way they could prove that at present. "It's more of a gut feeling I have."

"_Your gut feeling, or the Illusive Man's?"_ asked Valern snidely. _"In any case, then for all you know the Collectors are acting on their own initiative. I for one see no reason to believe that the Reapers are involved at all."_

"_We haven't forgotten that the Reapers exist and are on their way," _said Tevos. _"I have not forgotten what Kiryuu Knight showed me in the Array, and it has been... difficult to remind the rest of the Council that there is still a very real threat. However, Valern is right; there's nothing to suggest that they are involved in the abductions."_

"_I for one am puzzled by the idea of the Collectors being behind the attacks,"_ Ikram mused. _"Leaving aside the fact that most outside the Terminus Systems don't even believe they exist, no reports have indicated them as being mass-abductors, certainly not on this scale. These actions do not fit their profile."_

"_It would not surprise me if this was some grand manipulation by Cerberus,"_ Valern spat. _"I don't know what happened to you in the past two years, Commander, but your mental state must be fragile if you would even consider working with them!"_

"Typical anti-Cerberus paranoia," Miranda scoffed. "You always were the professional cynic, Councillor Valern, always willing to ignore the evidence of your own eyes."

Valern's eyes would have been shooting sparks if they could, as he glared at Miranda and opened his mouth to begin delivering a crusher of an insult. However, Shepard quickly interrupted.

"I deserve better than this!" she snapped. "I kept Saren from destroying the Citadel. I sacrificed human lives to save this Council! After everything I've done you're still not going to take something I say on faith?"

"_We're in a difficult position, Shepard,"_ said Tevos, after an awkward pause. _"Cerberus is an avowed enemy of both the Council and the Orion Alliance. Working with them is treason, a capital offence."_

"That's too far!" Anderson barked. "Shepard is a hero! I'm on this Council too and won't let this whitewash continue!"

"_Anderson, please, let me finish!"_ said Tevos firmly, before addressing Shepard again. _"We talked it over, and we have decided that there may be a compromise. Not a public acknowledgement, given your ties, but something to show our personal support."_

"_Shepard,"_ said Valern, _"if you and your crew keep a low profile, and restrict your operations to the Terminus Systems, the Council will not interfere with your investigation. We are even willing to offer you reinstatement as a Spectre."_

"What does that mean?" asked Shepard. "Will I need to start filing reports?"

"_That's too risky at present,"_ said Ikram. _"Cerberus will almost certainly be monitoring your transmissions. They would never allow sensitive information to reach us. It would not surprise me if even now they were hacking your Omni-Tool and hardsuit monitors."_

"_Consider this a token of our good faith,"_ said Tevos in a sincere tone. _"Understand that we cannot become involved in an investigation in the Terminus Systems, especially not a Cerberus investigation. However, Spectre reinstatement shows our support of you personally. Know that, whatever happens out in the Terminus Systems, we believe in you."_

Shepard looked over at Anderson, who nodded. She had to admit that she was disappointed that she would not be receiving any official support, but she reasoned that she couldn't ask for any more. Cerberus had done a good job of creating so many roadblocks between her and outside help. In the end, she turned back to the Councillors and bowed politely.

"I accept your offer," she said. "It's good to know the Council are on my side."

"_Good luck with your investigation, Shepard,"_ said Tevos, nodding. _"We pray for a swift resolution... and a quick end to your relationship with Cerberus."_

Shepard was sure she could see Valern staring daggers at Miranda, as the Councillors signed off and their holograms faded. Anderson breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well," he said, wiping his forehead, "that went better than expected."

"You realise the Council's offer is just symbolic, Commander," said Jacob. "They won't actually do anything."

"Even if they don't help," Shepard shrugged, "I might as well stay on good terms."

"True enough," Anderson nodded. "Don't worry about the Council or the Alliance. I'll find some way to keep them off your back. Shouldn't be too hard, as long as you keep to the Terminus Systems."

Just then, the door opened, and in strode a figure that Shepard had hoped never to see again. The figure was Donnell Udina, former UNSC ambassador. He was wearing his familiar white suit with blue turtleneck jumper, his skin still dark and his hair very grey.

"Anderson, we need to talk about..." he began as he strode into the room. Then he froze, his eyes going wide as he saw Shepard, Jacob and Miranda.

"Shepard!" he snarled, his expression turning sour. "What are you doing here?"

"Not used to seeing ghosts, Udina?" Shepard retorted.

"I'd heard you were alive, of course," Udina replied, "but I didn't expect to see you back on the Citadel."

"I invited Shepard here to speak with the Council," said Anderson. "We just finished our meeting."

"You what?" spluttered Udina. "Councillor, do the words 'political shit-storm' mean anything to you?"

There was a snort from Miranda as she fought to stifle a laugh that threatened to escape.

"The Council re-instated my Spectre status," Shepard explained, deciding she had better step in before things turned ugly. "They're just happy I'm staying out in the Terminus Systems."

"Yes..." said Udina thoughtfully. "I can see how that arrangement works best for both sides. Still," he continued, addressing Anderson, "you really shouldn't have taken a step like this without consulting me first, Councillor."

"I don't answer to you, Udina," Anderson retorted. "Why don't you go to your office and think about that for a while?"

"Of course, Councillor," said Udina, in a tone of forced politeness. "Good day to both of you." With that, he spun on his heel and marched straight out of the office.

"Sorry about that," said Anderson apologetically once Udina was gone. "Udina's never gotten over the fact that I got the Council position instead of him. Sometimes I need to put him in his place. Now I know how President Knight felt when he had to put up with him."

"What do you keep him around for?" asked Shepard.

"He has his uses," said Anderson, walking towards the balcony. "If you want something done on the Citadel, he knows who can make it happen. Plus, he's always happy to attend all those formal diplomatic functions I can't be bothered with."

He leaned against the railing and looked out over the Presidium. Shepard couldn't help but detect the weariness in his tone. Clearly this was not a job that he enjoyed. Part of her wondered if she had done him a disservice recommending him for the Council.

"We'll head back to the ship, Commander," said Jacob. "We'll give you a chance to catch up."

"I've told C-Sec to leave you alone unless you start any trouble," said Anderson rather frostily. "Trust me when I say that wouldn't be the case if you weren't with Shepard."

Shepard nodded, and both Jacob and Miranda left the room before things got more unpleasant. She moved closer to Anderson and leaned beside him.

"How have the last couple of years treated you?" she asked.

"Serving on the Council isn't how I planned to spend my twilight years," Anderson admitted. "Sometimes it feels like I'm just beating my head against a wall. Knowing the truth about Sovereign is brutal. It's nightmare stuff. I know how important it is though, so I keep trying. Fight the good fight, right?"

"Forget Udina and the Council," said Shepard dismissively. "Join my crew and help me stop the Collectors."

"I'm too old to go racing across the galaxy," said Anderson. "As much as I complain, I've got an important job to do here. The front line's gotta be your realm."

Shepard sighed and looked out over the Presidium, watching the people going to and fro about their daily lives.

"What happened to Staff Lieutenant Alenko after the _Normandy_ was destroyed?" she asked. Kaidan Alenko had been on her mind a lot since she came here, and she wanted to know if there was any way to catch up to him.

"Staff Commander Alenko is still with the UNSC," said Anderson. "He's working on a special mission. It's classified." Sensing that Shepard was about to press him further, he continued. "I can't say any more. Not while you're working with Cerberus. I'm sorry. Talking of which, I don't know how they managed to recreate the most advanced ship in the UNSC navy without anyone knowing."

The ship Shepard had arrived in was the _Normandy SR-2_, an advanced version of her old ship. The Cerberus logos painted on the ship were a cause of consternation with her, but she reasoned that there was little she could do about it.

"I wish I knew," said Shepard. "Anyway, last I knew, we were still fighting Geth holdouts."

"Here and there," said Anderson, "but they are increasingly disorganised. It's long since stopped being called a war. More like cleanup. Not that you can ever discount them, but we haven't had serious casualties for months. A civilian ship will spot an enclave and we send in a squad to clear it. They're not quite the bogeymen they used to be."

"How long did it take to get this place back up to speed after the battle?" asked Shepard.

"Still counting," said Anderson. "The main areas of commerce and the most populated Wards are complete, but estimates for total restoration are sitting around five years. The Keepers always surprise us though," he continued, referring to the strange insect-like custodians of the station. "It's like our repairs are annoying. We'll put up an ugly new bulkhead and in a few days they've made it seamless. We've never really thought of them as heavy lifters, and I have no idea where they get the resources. Still, we'd never get done without them."

Shepard remembered learning the truth of the Keepers. Just like the Citadel, they too were a creation of the Reapers who were supposed to be instrumental in bringing them back from beyond the galaxy. Thanks to the Forerunners thousands of years ago they had been rendered harmless, which had forced the Reaper vanguard, Sovereign, to find other means of bringing them back, eventually leading to the horrifying events two years ago.

"Have there been any developments in researching ways to stop the Reapers?" asked Shepard. "The Council can't have spent the last two years with their thumbs up their asses, surely?"

"We agreed that we can't say anything concrete, Shepard," said Anderson. "Not while there's a risk Cerberus will get wind of our developments and use them against us. I'm pretty sure you've worked out that the others consider you a security risk. I can tell you that we don't have much to look at. Telek 'Heros' shot sent pieces of it raining all over the station. It was chaos, with who knows how many species combing the Wards for their dead. We secured as much of it as we could, but between the Keepers and a whole lot of unauthorised salvage operations, there's no way to account for even half of that thing. If it hadn't been for Tevos reminding the others of what she saw in the Array, I'm sure they would have talked themselves out of believing the Reapers actually exist; there's almost no proof."

Shepard nodded, evidently disappointed that the Council considered her so much of a risk that they were keeping her out of the loop. Sensing that she had better not outstay her welcome, she decided to leave.

"I'd better go," she said apologetically.

"Of course, Shepard," said Anderson. "I understand. I wish I could do more to help you, but if you ever need to talk, I'll be here." He turned to look at her, his eyes full of concern.

"Just do me favour and be careful," he finished. "You can't trust Cerberus."


	7. Fateful Encounters

**Fateful Encounters**

Professor Mordin Solus knew how to cope with the unexpected. His extensive training in both the medical sciences and as a member of the Salarian Special Tasks Group meant he was well-prepared for unexpected complications and deviations to an established plan. He prided himself on being highly adaptable and unfazed by any curveball that life may try to throw at him.

However, to say that he was not surprised when the Cerberus group approached him asking for his help would be untrue. Word of the group's reputation as being pro-human extremists had reached him two years ago from the Salarian homeworld, and of course they were considered highly problematic. He had heard of the ethically-questionable methods Cerberus used in their pursuit of 'safeguarding' human interests, though he knew that he was not someone who should be talking about morals. He had done things in his life that he wasn't proud of, which was one of the reasons he had become a doctor in the slums of Omega. He was a professional in a place where he was needed the most, with no activities required that were morally dubious.

When Cerberus had approached him, informing him that he was a key component in the team they were forming to fight the Collectors, he had to admit that he was more than a little intrigued. The situation had to be bad if they were looking outside the human race for help in the affair. Since the Collectors were also behind the plague that had wiped out nearly all the non-human population in the slums he had an extra motive to be facing them. He wanted answers, and he knew that his curiosity could never be satisfied if he did not join the Lazarus Cell in their mission.

Now he couldn't help looking around him and admiring the sleek, shining interior of the _Normandy_ as he followed Jacob along the combat deck. Cerberus certainly knew how to build ships, for as impressive as the original _Normandy_ had been this one had made a number of seamless improvements. He had expected to meet hostility on the ship, but none of the humans seemed to care that he was Salarian. Some of them even said hello as he passed them. Clearly Cerberus had picked the least xenophobic members to fill the Lazerus Cell.

Through a well-stocked armoury and down a corridor they went, until reaching the meeting room in the centre of the ship. The room was very Spartan in décor, consisting of a single large table with a hologram of the ship floating above it. That was the impression Mordin had gotten on the ship; the clean, surgical, and precise nature of the layout seemed to reflect on the group's drive for efficiency. In the room already was Commander Shepard, who Mordin noticed was the only crew member besides himself who wasn't wearing a Cerberus uniform. Instead she was wearing a set of casual brown and blue overalls with open arms and neckline; he began to wonder what sort of implications this held for Shepard's attitude towards her present employers.

"Welcome to the _Normandy_, Professor," said Jacob. "It's an honour to have you on board."

"Yes," said Mordin in the clipped, reedy tones that were characteristic of his species. "Very exciting. Cerberus working with aliens. Unexpected. Illusive Man branching out, maybe? Not so human-centric?"

"You're very well-informed," said Shepard.

"Salarian government well-connected," Mordin explained. "Espionage experts. Had top-level clearance once. Retired now. Still hear things. Informed of name only. No knowledge of man behind it. Anti-alien reputation listed as problematic."

"Well don't kid yourself, Professor," said Shepard, shaking her head. "Humans still come first in the Illusive Man's eyes, but this mission is too big for them to handle alone."

"The Collectors are abducting human colonists out on the fringes of Terminus Space," said Jacob.

"Not simple abductions," mused Mordin. "Wouldn't need me for simple."

"Entire colonies disappear without a trace," said Jacob. "No distress signals are sent out. There are no signs of any kind of attack. There's virtually no evidence that anything unusual happened at all... except that every man, woman and child is gone."

"Gas, maybe?" Mordin said, not looking at either Shepard or Jacob. "No. Spreads too slow. Airborne virus? No. Slower than gas. Drugged water supply? No. Effects not simultaneous." He was speaking so rapidly and constantly moving that Shepard was amazed he didn't pass out. Sensing that he was about to start speculating further, she held up a hand to silence him.

"There's no need to sit there and guess," she said. "We collected samples from one of the colonies. I'd like you to analyse them and figure out how the Collectors did this."

"Yes," said Mordin, looking at Shepard as if he'd just noticed her. "Of course. Analyse the samples. Going to need a lab." He started to walk toward the door, but paused, apparently thinking better of it.

"_There's a fully-equipped lab on the combat deck, Professor Solus,"_ a female voice with an odd electronic quality to it suddenly said from speakers in the room's ceiling. _"If you find anything lacking, please place a requisition order."_

"Who's that?" asked Mordin. "Pilot? No. Synthesised voice. Simulated emotional inflections. Could it be... No. Maybe. Have to ask. Is that an AI?"

Artificial Intelligence development was considered illegal in much of the civilised galaxy, due to problems with their unpredictable behaviour. The Geth were seen as a living example of what happens when AI development went too far. Mordin knew that this had caused consternation with the human United Nations Space Command, who had been led by an AI at one time and even had that same AI as their ambassador on the Citadel for five years. Of course, he reasoned that Council laws would matter little to Cerberus.

"This ship is equipped with an artificial intelligence," Shepard admitted. Her tone sounded very wary, as if she didn't fully trust this particular AI, something Mordin considered odd since humanity were the only race who had developed non-hostile AIs. He was also becoming curious as to how Cerberus had acquired this particular AI; he highly doubted that Kiryuu Knight would have loaned it to the Illusive Man.

"An AI on board?" said Mordin, thinking aloud again. "Non-human crew members? Cerberus more desperate than I thought."

"The Collectors have taken tens of thousands of colonists," said Jacob firmly. "We'll do whatever we have to do to find and stop them."

"Yes." said Mordin. "Of course. Can't risk being captured like colonists. Need to identify, neutralise technology. Need samples. Which way to the lab?"

"Follow me, Professor," said Jacob. He led the way out of the meeting room and turned right. At this side of the corridor was a door that led to a well-stocked laboratory, complete with chemistry tools, several surveillance crates, a large workbench and a terminal for storing all of his research. A quick glance around told him that, at present, he had everything he needed.

"Be sure to let us know if anything's missing," said Jacob. "All the data we acquired has already been uploaded to your terminal. Good luck finding some answers... for all our sakes." With that, he gave a quick salute and left. It seemed clear to Mordin that Jacob was ex-military; he didn't need to be particularly observant to notice that.

Moving over to the workbench, he perused the data that had been gathered by Shepard's team already. Judging from what they had already told him, it would have been impossible to gather this amount of data after the fact; there had to have been an eyewitness, someone who was both very fortunate to escape and likely very traumatised by what they witnessed. The most useful data he came across was the method the Collectors used to immobilise their victims. They used swarms of little robots, referred to as Seekers, that resembled giant mosquitoes. They stung the victims and paralysed them with some kind of nerve toxin, making them easy prey for the Collectors.

Of course, just looking at the data wasn't enough. He knew that he'd need a live sample of one of the Seeker drones to study them sufficiently before he could produce an adequate countermeasure. As he peered intently at the data, it dawned on him that he just might have enough data to construct a drone himself from scratch. It would not be an exact replica, of course, but he could certainly create one close enough to the real thing, one that would at least enable him to take a more accurate educated guess on what had to be done.

He breathed in deeply through his nostrils and immediately set to work. It would take a few days at least, working non-stop, before he would have anything to present to Shepard. This was one more challenge to overcome, and he relished a good challenge.

0

Freedom's Progress was a typical human colony that at one point had a population of almost a million people. The planet it resided on, which had never been officially named, was rocky and set in an almost-permanent winter. The colony had been built in a particularly mountainous region, parts of it built into the mountains themselves to protect the settlers from the harsh cold.

Now the colony was completely deserted. It was night-time on the planet, and only a light flurry of snow was falling on the abandoned houses, landing pads and communal areas. The UNSC investigation team had gone over the colony with a fine toothcomb and had found nothing. After consulting them, Alan and Nicole walked back to the _Serenity_ to try and get warm, the snow crunching under their feet.

"You're right," said Alan. "There's not much left."

"It's been like this at all the other colonies we were able to check," said Nicole. "We've had to move pretty carefully out here, since people don't trust the UNSC out here. You'd think they'd be a bit more grateful, after all the crap we went through in the Covenant War." She grunted irritably as she and Alan stepped into the cargo bay. "No signs of an attack, no foreign tissue... This place is as empty as the last one. The only strange thing was that someone hacked the defence mainframe to remove the Identify-Friend-Foe programming in the security droids. They would have shot at anything that moved. Could be a survivor or a scavenger, but whoever it was they're long gone."

"That might explain the Quarian bodies that we found," said Alan. "That can't be usual."

"Dunkelzahn alone knows what they were doing here," shrugged Nicole. "They could have been making their own investigation, or they could have scavenging for supplies for all we know. Everything I've read about Quarians says they're a bunch of space gypsies."

"I prefer to think of them as Space Wombles," Alan chimed in. "They fix and use all the stuff that we throw away." Ignoring the utterly baffled look on Nicole's face, he went to the control panel to close the cargo bay door.

"Hold on a second!" Nicole suddenly called, prompting Alan to pause with his claw hovering over the panel. "We've got some deliveries due!"

"Deliveries?" Alan asked, looking perplexed. In spite of his thermal wear he was now feeling the chill from outside. His question was soon answered when several UNSC marines arrived, transporting a very large, very heavy, olive-green crate between them. The crate was big enough to fit two average-sized people inside it. With a great deal of effort they wheeled the crate up the ramp and into the cargo bay.

"Where do you want this, MC?" one of them asked, sounding exhausted.

"Just over there," said Nicole, "by the other lockers." She pointed to the row of lockers by the door that each contained the crew's combat armour and environment suits. Struggling and straining, the marines somehow managed to lift the heavy crate on its end and push it into line with the other lockers. They also brought two large bags and placed them amongst the rest of the supplies already tied down to the sides of the hold.

"Thanks, guys!" Nicole called as the marines saluted and left. When they were clear of the access ramp Alan raised it, finally sealing the ship from the elements.

"What's going on, Nicole?" he asked, thoroughly confused. "What's in that thing?"

"I requested a transfer to the _Serenity_ while we were en-route to Freedom's Progress," Nicole answered. "It just got approved. I figure that if I'm going to find out what happened to those colonists I've got a better chance with you guys." She smiled wryly at Alan. "Everyone in the Fleet Shadow of Fury's known for pulling off the impossible, and I want to see if that luck will rub off on me."

"You may change your tune once you get a taste of our 'luck'," Alan said wryly. He crossed over to the locker and placed a hand on it. It was locked with a small palm scanner. "I take it this is your armour?"

"That's right," said Nicole. "Customised MJOLNIR armour, now a shade of blue rather than the green standard issue."

Alan knew that the MJOLNIR armour was special issue for Spartans. Nicole-458, to give her full name, was a second-generation Spartan, her body riddled with cybernetic augmentations since childhood and trained to be the ultimate soldier. It explained her abnormal height, weight and strength; no human could even lift a Spartan's armour by themselves. Alan remembered hearing the truth about the Spartan program only two years ago, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for Nicole that she had essentially been raised as a machine. He was amazed that she still had a very human personality; from their reputation, most other Spartans were little more than unquestioning, unfeeling automatons. He wondered if being raised under Malcho's wing had saved her from that fate.

"Malcho finally got his way with your armour, did he?" he asked, trying to bury his thoughts behind a smirk. "I remember how much he hated the old colour. What was it he called it before? 'Baby-puke green'?" He stepped away from the locker and looked back towards the airlock, then back to Nicole. Something had just occurred to him.

"They called you 'MC' just then," he said. "So you made Master Chief, did you?"

"That's right," said Nicole, blushing with barely-disguised pride. "I don't mind, but please; just Nicole will do."

"Well, I'm glad to have you on board, Nicole," he said, leading the way up the gantries, eventually reaching the corridor leading to the bridge. "Your cabin's the first on the left as you face the bridge. Actually, changing the subject for a moment, do you hear anything from John?"

John-117 was the codename for one of the UNSC's most respected marines. For a long time it had been thought that he was the last of the Spartans, but in spite of this he played a key role in the Covenant's defeat seven years ago.

"No, I haven't," said Nicole. "What, you thought the Spartans had their own social space on the extranet? The last I heard he'd been dispatched to the Skyllian Verge. A lot of Batarian groups are causing trouble for our interests there, so he's probably out there putting a boot up their collective ass."

"I think he'd need a damn big boot," Alan said. As he and Nicole walked to the bridge, he wondered just how much Nicole knew about Sovereign and the Reapers. She knew that he had fought to stop Saren and the Geth, but she seemed oblivious to the truth of the matter. He didn't doubt that the UNSC were as focused on concealing the truth from the public as the Council was.

As they walked onto the bridge, they found Alistair sat at the pilot's console, his large feet propped up. He was listening to some extranet radio, from which a growling voice filled with malevolent glee was speaking about 'great opportunities for pirate gangs in the Terminus Systems'.

"Never anything good on the radio, is there?" Alan said.

"I've been listening to how the disappearances have been reported," said Alistair, his expression dark. "The Batarians are just loving all this, relishing every chance to tell everyone how much humans fail at life, the universe and everything." He turned to look at Nicole; Alan had made the necessary introductions during the flight to Freedom's Progress. "I thought you were being dropped off here, love?"

"She's one of us now," said Alan. "All her stuff's just been moved on-board."

"You sure you won't turn back?" asked Alistair in mock terror. "You may not get another chance. You might want to flee while you can!"

"I think I'll stay right where I am, thanks," Nicole replied.

"Alright," said Alistair, "but don't say I didn't warn you. Anyway," he continued, turning back to the console. "I've also been looking over those files that Liara gave us. You know; the ones about the Collectors? I found this..." He pointed to one of the monitors, which now displayed a rotating diagram of a huge ship, one which looked like a gigantic termite mound growing out of the metal.

"Look familiar?" Alistair finished, his expression grim.

"That's the same ship the _Normandy_'s black box recorded!" exclaimed Alan. "So it was the Collectors who took down Shepard?"

"I'd bet my beak on it," said Alistair. "You want me to send this bit of news to Telek?"

"You can do," Alan shrugged, "but I don't know what good it'd do. All we've done is confirmed who that ship belonged to. If anything, it just opens up the question of 'why'."

"Yeah, it makes no sense," said Alistair. "All the data Liara gave suggests they're scavengers and slave traders. They're not known for direct attacks."

"So that's yet another mystery to solve," groaned Alan. "I think we ought to start keeping a running tally. Well, there's nothing else we can do here. Alistair, you might as well take us out."

"Is it always like this with the fleet?" asked Nicole, as the ship lifted away from the ground. "Just a whole lot of mysteries and unanswered questions?"

"No," sighed Alan. "Sometimes it gets confusing."

0

Garrus Vakarian had had a very bad week. His actions as the vigilante known as Archangel had earned him something of a reputation on Omega, drawing the ire of every major criminal gang in the city. Then his team of twelve had been killed by a traitor in their midst. He had angered the three major mercenary gangs in the Terminus Systems – the Blue Suns, the Eclipse and the Blood Pack – to the point where they had even been willing to unite just to take him down. That had led to over three days of single-handedly holding them off, eventually ending with him getting a rocket-propelled grenade in the face. He was sure his old boss, Executor Pallin, would be proud of him for annoying so many criminals.

Some small part of the Turian's brain couldn't help attributing his predicament to Commander Shepard. After her death he had decided to follow her example. He had tried to go back to C-Sec, but soon tired of the stifling levels of bureaucracy on the Citadel, as well as the Council's efforts to downplay the threat posed by King Ghidorah and his Reaper spawn. In the end, he had left to try and make a real difference in this cruel and messed-up galaxy.

For his trouble, he had almost been blown up, but not before an unexpected reunion with Shepard, looking very much alive. Together they had succeeded in taking down the mercenary gangs, though he couldn't help but notice the Cerberus logo on one of her companions. Of course, that had not been a good time to question her about it.

He groaned and tried to sit upright, blinking his hawk-like eyes to try and force them to refocus. He looked around him, and as his eyes became used to the light he saw that he was now in a brightly-lit medical bay, complete with a row of beds and a lot of medical equipment. The right side of his face and upper torso felt very sore. He held a hand up to his head, feeling a bad headache coming on.

"You always were a tough one, Garrus," an elderly female voice said from somewhere to his left. He looked over to see a woman he recognised, wearing a grey doctor's uniform that matched the iron-grey curls of her hair. She looked kindly at him as Garrus swivelled round to dangle his legs over the side of the bed.

"Dr. Chakwas?" he asked. When he tried to speak he felt his right mandible ache. "What are you doing here?"

"Throwing myself into the fire with Shepard again," said Chakwas. Garrus remembered her reputation as one of the most brilliant medical minds in the UNSC. "You got hit pretty badly, but we were able to fix you up with a graft, mild cybernetic components and a lot of medi-gel. I wouldn't advise straining your facial muscles for a few days though."

Feeling his cheek, Garrus felt that it was now covered with bandages. He noticed that his armour was also damaged, with two large holes blasted through the neck protector and scorched with blast burns in other places. All things considered, he knew that he was very lucky to be alive. He jumped down off the bed and walked about a bit, making sure his legs were working properly. He looked around him and noticed the window looking out over the ship's mess hall. He saw the Cerberus logo etched into the shining metal wall, and saw various humans milling around in identical black-and-white uniforms, with the Cerberus logo stitched on the side.

"What are we doing on a Cerberus vessel?" asked Garrus darkly. "The last time I checked they weren't our allies."

"An alliance born of necessity, I'm afraid," said Chakwas. "The Council and the UNSC can't help us. Shepard's had to turn to them to get help stopping the Collectors. We've been forced into a very awkward position."

"I've heard stories about the Collectors," said Garrus. "What'd they do to piss Cerberus off so much? Not that I imagine it takes much to annoy Cerberus if you're not human."

"They've been snatching hundreds of thousands of colonists out in the Terminus Systems," Chakwas explained. "Shepard's putting a team together to stop them. You – or rather Archangel – were on the list."

"I suppose that makes some warped kind of sense," said Garrus, shaking his head in disbelief. "Though that's probably just the concussion talking. I'm surprised you're here though, Doc; I never figured you to be the Cerberus type."

"I don't work for Cerberus, Garrus," said Chakwas. "I work for Shepard. She's probably in the briefing room on the next deck up." She gave Garrus a sympathetic look. "Why don't you go speak to her? You're back on your feet, at least, and she could use some friends right now."

Garrus nodded, and staggered out of the medical bay. As he walked he changed his posture to appear in less pain than he was. Striding over to the central elevator he rode up to the next floor up; the command deck. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the deck. Now that his senses were becoming more alert he realised that this ship was an almost-exact replica of the _Normandy_. The colouration was different and the ship was noticeably bigger, but the layout was the same. It was as if he was now in some kind of bizarre time-warp.

Finding his way to the armoury, he walked through that and eventually reached the corridor leading to the briefing room. He stood outside the door for a moment, hearing voices coming from within.

"We've done what we could for Garrus," said a voice he recognised to be Jacob's. He had met the Cerberus operative back at his hideout along with Shepard and a Salarian he hadn't caught the name of.

"But he took a bad hit," Jacob continued. "Doctor Chakwas corrected him with some surgical procedures and cybernetics. Best we can tell, he'll have full functionality, but..."

Adjusting his posture again to make sure he was standing tall and proud, Garrus entered the room. Both Jacob and Shepard were in there, and both turned to him, grinning broadly.

"Shepard," said Garrus curtly.

"Tough son-of-a-bitch," Jacob chuckled. "Didn't think he'd be up yet."

"Nobody would give me a mirror," said Garrus, as he sauntered into the room. "How bad is it?" He pointed towards his bandaged cheek.

"Hell, Garrus," replied Shepard, smirking, "you were always ugly. Slap some face-paint on there and no-one will even notice."

Garrus started to laugh, but then winced with pain.

"Don't make me laugh, damnit," he groaned. "My face is barely holding together as it is." Quickly resuming his casual demeanour, he strode closer to Shepard. "Some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are Krogan."

Shepard chuckled, shaking her head. It looked like the attack hadn't affected Garrus in the slightest. Jacob gave a respectful salute to them both and headed back to the armoury. When he was gone, Garrus leaned closer to Shepard.

"Frankly, I'm more worried about you," he said, his tone now much more serious. "Cerberus, Shepard? You remember those sick experiments they were doing, not to mention that they murdered one of your most respected admirals?"

"I do," said Shepard grimly. "That's why I'm glad you're here, Garrus. If I'm walking into Hell, I want someone I trust at my side."

"You realise this plan has me walking into Hell, too," said Garrus, before allowing himself a small chuckle. "Just like old times, alright. I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard. I'll settle in and see what I can do at the forward batteries."

With that, he walked back out of the briefing room. He had faith in Shepard, but now that he was on a Cerberus vessel he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be looking over his shoulder at all times.

0

A born killer...

She had heard that so many times throughout the course of her life. It had been instilled into her from a very early stage in her life. She had made her first kill when she was less than ten years old. Everything that she had experienced had all been made with the intent of pushing her into euphoria each time she took a life. She still felt that buzz even now; every atrocity she had committed gave her nothing but pleasure when she thought about it.

Perhaps that was why she was considered psychotic even by the usual standards of the inmates on board the prison ship _Purgatory_. The killings she committed on the ship hadn't even been unprovoked; those guards and prisoners who had raped her had it coming. She had spent most of the last few days frozen, until she suddenly woke up to find her cryo-freezer open, and alarms sounding all over the station.

She had wasted no time in making her escape bid, of course, smashing apart any mechs, guards or inmatess dumb enough to try to stop her. She was a psion, and a very powerful one at that. She remembered all-too-well what she had suffered through to make her 'the ultimate human psion'. She knew nothing about her birth parents, or where she had been born. All she knew were the experiments, the ruthless pursuit of unlocking the full extent of ESP potential in humans. They had made her into the ultimate living weapon, and one of these days they would all die at the hands of their weapon. The irony was delicious.

She had fought her way through the ship, using her ESP capabilities to slam her opponents into the walls, empower her impressive combat abilities and even tear her opponents apart from the inside. Every drop of blood, every shattered bone and scream of pain was like a narcotic for her; she felt so much pleasure at this death and mayhem that she felt fit to burst. That was a side-effect of her conditioning, of course, though if there was one thing she had learned was that there was no time for regrets, for you might be dead tomorrow.

Eventually, as the station collapsed and burned around her, she reached the docking bay. Only two more Blue Suns guards stood between her and freedom. They tried to shout at her, tell her to stop, but she ploughed straight into them. She broke one merc's neck with a vicious, psionically-enhanced backhand before lifting the other one up psychically and sending him crashing into the pipes on the wall.

Just a few steps to go and she would be able to hijack a shuttle and get out of the station before it blew. As she was passing one of the docking cradles, however, she happened to glance out of one of the windows and spotted that a ship was still docked. That would be much better than a shuttle for her purposes, and she was on the point of breaking inside and hijacking the vessel. It was a very sleek vessel, no doubt very powerful, and it would make a fine prize, at least until she got bored with it and crashed in on the nearest Hanar moon.

However, a second glance revealed something that she really did not want to see. An outraged expression lined her face as she saw an emblem on the side of the ship, one that she had hoped she would never see again. Just the very sight of it made her blood boil. She knew exactly who this ship belong to.

"Cerberus..." she snarled. Her snarl became a frustrated roar. Cerberus was here, the one thing she hated more than anything else in this galaxy. Why were they here? Had they finally caught up to her? Well, she had no intention of ever going back with them. If any Cerberus operatives came up to her now, she would pull their heads off! It gave her all the more reason to get on that ship and wipe out everyone on it.

Hearing footsteps running towards her, she spun around to see a Blue Suns guard charging at her, his assault rifle ready. However, there were sudden gunshots from behind her, and the Batarian dropped to the floor as his brains were turned into mush by two neatly-placed bullets. Spinning round to see the shooter, she was three well-armed people stood before her; two human females and a Turian male. Much to her disgust, she saw that the dark-haired woman was wearing a Cerberus uniform. Even as the black-armoured woman relaxed her gun, she knew that these people were not to be trusted.

"What the hell do you want?" she barked, bracing herself for a fight.

"You're in a bad situation, Jack," said the armoured woman, apparently the leader of this trio. "I'm gonna get you outta here."

"Shit," the woman known as Jack muttered. "You sound like a pussy." She paced before them, peering at them with concentrated hate. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You're Cerberus."

"I'm here to ask for your help," the squad leader said.

"You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me away somewhere," Jack argued. "You think I'm stupid?" It was clear that the squad leader was now losing her patience, as a hard frown creased her face.

"This ship is going down in flames," she hissed. "I've got the only way out. I'm offering to take you with me, and you're arguing."

"We could knock her out and take her," the Turian said.

"I'd like to see you try," Jack retorted.

"We're not gonna attack her," the squad leader said to her companion, clearly showing more sense.

"Good move," said Jack. "Look, you want me to come with you, make it worth my while." It seemed to be dawning on Jack that this wasn't a normal Cerberus operation. It was strange that two of them weren't wearing uniforms, and she couldn't recall any point where Cerberus had recruited aliens.

"Tell me what you're thinking," said the squad leader.

"I bet your ship's got lots of Cerberus databases," said Jack, a sudden idea coming to her. "I wanna look at those files, see what Cerberus has on me. You want me on your team? Then let me go through those databases."

The squad leader paused, clearly considering the conditions. Jack didn't expect anything to come of it, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"I'll give you full access," she then said. Jack had to admit that she was surprised by this, but then again she had been lied to before and wasn't entirely ready to believe her word yet.

"Shepard, you're not authorised to do that!" the dark-haired Cerberus woman barked.

"Aww, it upsets the cheerleader," Jack sneered. She figured that woman would be a full-fledged Cerberus lackey before she even opened her mouth. "Even better." She turned to look back at the woman called Shepard and glared at her. "You'd better be straight up with me."

Shepard just nodded in reply. Clearly the woman was a professional, not trying to give her any bullshit marketing speak. Jack turned to look back at the ship. Looking at it again, she saw that it was called the _Normandy_. It struck her as an odd name, but she wasn't going to complain if it was her only chance off the station.

"So what the hell are we standing here for?" she barked.

"Move out," said Shepard firmly, and the quartet began to move towards the docking cradle.

Jack noticed the dirty looks she was getting from the Cerberus cheerleader. Though the thought of annoying such a person gave Jack a great deal of amusement, she couldn't help but be curious about why this Shepard woman wanted her so badly, and even seemed willing to spill Cerberus' darkest secrets to her. Then again, she did arrive in a Cerberus vessel, and doubtless there would be more Cerberus crew on-board. She was fully expecting a knife in the back at any moment. Well, if all else failed she could go back to the 'kill everyone and take the ship' plan, but for the time being at least she wanted to see just how far this trap extended.

0

He knew many names. He knew the name Jarrod, the fierce warlord who tried to betray and murder his own son, even going so far as to befoul hallowed ground to do so. He knew the name Shiagur, the cunning warlord who had used her unique position as a fertile female Krogan to seize power during the Krogan Rebellions. Of course, he also knew the name of his creator, Okeer, a militant radical who was so ruthless and fanatical that even his own people turned on him. Okeer had tried to imprint all of his knowledge and values onto his subject.

What he didn't know was why he should care about all this. He knew the names of old warlords, but he didn't know why they had to be so revered. Okeer had shown him so much in the imprints, but he didn't know what purpose it all served. It was like holding a picture book up to a child, just asking them to identify what was in the pictures over and over without giving them a reason to care.

Being in this tank, suspended in the fluid in which he had been grown and was filling him with nutrients, he had a lot of time for thought. However, he now felt a new sensation, as if he was being thrown onto a hard surface. He heard a loud thud and felt impact on his knees. He no longer felt the warmth of the tank fluid, and every muscle of his body ached. All of his scales felt cold, and he coughed violently, spitting out more of the fluid that only seconds ago he had called 'home'. He also became aware of new sounds reaching his ears; the low, steady hum of a ship's engines, and a sound of footsteps from close by.

Now he felt a new sensation. A small voice in the back of his mind was telling him to get to his feet immediately. He had to be prepared to face whoever had opened his tank. He was told that was the way of the Krogan warrior, to always be ready to fight, for the Krogan had many enemies. To fight was all he knew. It was what he was created for. He knew how to kill every single alien that existed in this galaxy, including his own kin. Okeer had spent so much time obsessing over old hatreds.

Slowly, feeling his muscles begin to work, he raised himself to his full height, the last remnants of fluid dripping off him. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, trying to focus. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was already clothed in gleaming silver battle armour; he could not begin to imagine how Okeer had managed to dress him without awakening him. A quick cursory glance revealed that he was in a small storage room, with crates of various sizes and with clean metallic walls. Standing before him was a small human female, with short brown hair, green eyes and dressed in brown overalls.

His mental imprints told him about humans. He knew that they were soft, like the Asari. He knew that it would only require a finger, if that, to dig in and sever their spine. He knew that their necks were delicate, and would not take much effort to crush. Guided by instinct, he decided what to do on the spot. He needed to disable this human without killing her, and leaving her capable of speech. There was one thing he wanted, something fundamental which Okeer had failed to give him.

With a snarl, he bent his head down and dashed forward, slamming into her. His charge carried them both to the opposite wall, where he pinned her against it, his arm placed firmly on her neck. The human tried to struggle loose, but his grip was firm.

"Human. Female," he grunted, using his mouth for the first time. Okeer's imprint had taught him how to speak and had told him of the universal translators that many in the galaxy used. He knew this human would have no trouble understanding him.

"Before you die," he said in a dispassionate tone, "I need a name."

"I'm Commander Shepard," the human hissed, showing only defiance rather than fear, "and I don't take threats lightly. I suggest you relax."

"Not your name," he replied. "Mine. I am trained, I know things, but the tank... Okeer couldn't implant connection. His words are hollow." He moved his lips slowly and carefully, trying to make them fit the words that he searched his mind for.

"Warlord..." he muttered. "Legacy, grunt... grunt." He then paused for a moment, finally finding a word that seemed to fit his mouth perfectly. He remembered that words as being one of the last things Okeer said before he died.

"'Grunt' was among the last," he said. "It has no meaning. It will do." He stared this woman, this 'Shepard' in the eye, and the female returned a similar cold glare.

"I am Grunt," he said. "If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me."

"You wouldn't prefer 'Okeer'?" Shepard asked sarcastically. "Or 'Legacy'?"

"It's short," Grunt explained. "It matches the training in my blood. The other words are big things I don't feel. Maybe they fit your mouth better. I feel nothing for Okeer's clan or his enemies. I will do what I am bred to do – fight and determine the strongest – but his imprint has failed. Without a reason that's mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you."

"Is it that easy for Okeer's perfect Krogan to abandon his mission?" asked Shepard firmly. Grunt vaguely recalled the word 'perfect' mentioned by Okeer, his pursuit of the perfect Krogan. He hadn't been searching for a cure to the genophage; he had wanted to create a super-race that would ignore it and climb to dominance on top of mountains of the dead. That was all meaningless to Grunt, however; he felt nothing for Okeer's mission.

"Okeer is just a voice in the tank," he said dismissively. "If his imprints are true, then he created something stronger than him. So he's not worthy of me. And if his hatreds aren't strong enough to compel me, they've failed too. I feel nothing. I have no connection."

He wasn't sure why he was admitting all this to this human, but he had read her body language throughout this confrontation. His words had no effect on her; there was no intimidation present, no sign of fear. She was calm, collected, even in such a situation as this; something about her made him want to speak, not just able to.

"We'll help you find that connection," said Shepard. "I've a good ship and a strong crew; a strong clan. You'd make it stronger."

"If you're weak and choose weak enemies, I'll have to kill you," snorted Grunt.

"Our enemies are worthy," said Shepard, a wry smile forming on her lips. "No doubt about that."

Grunt now had to admit that his curiosity was piqued. Clearly this woman seemed sure that the enemies she spoke of were worthy of his attention, and now he wanted to see just what they were. She seemed to believe that she could help him find what he sought, even though she was not a Krogan. Okeer had tried to tell him that no aliens could be trusted, but he had not given him a reason to believe that. He wanted to find a reason to care about anything on his own, and though it sounded incredible to him this human might be the one to help him find it.

"That is... acceptable," he grunted. "I'll fight for you."

"I'm glad you saw reason," said Shepard, and he noticed her eyes flicking down towards his abdomen. Puzzled, Grunt peered down, and now saw that she was holding a pistol tightly, pointing it right at his stomach. One shot and she could have easily forced him off, and there was no telling how long she had been pointing it. Grunt relaxed his grip, chuckling as he released Shepard.

"Offer one hand, but arm the other," he said, genuinely impressed. "Wise, Shepard. If I find a clan, if I find what I... I want, I will be honoured to eventually pit them against you."


	8. An Unexpected Passenger

**An Unexpected Passenger**

Over four days, while Shepard was recruiting the squad members for her mission to stop the Collectors, Alan and the _Serenity_ crew had been patrolling the Terminus Systems as best as they could, listening out for any sign of another colony attack. Over that time one colony was attacked – Ferris Fields – but by the time any rescuers arrived at the scene they were far too late; the colony was completely deserted, as with the others. No evidence could be found of the perpetrators; whoever they were, they were quick, ruthless, clinical and very careful.

With so little to go on, Alan found his frustration was beginning to mount up. It was beginning to reach the point where he was beginning to take the elusiveness of the attackers as a personal insult. He had never heard of anything that could leave no trace of their attacks that anyone could pick up on; in an eerie sense, they reminded him of the Reapers and how they left no evidence of their Cycle of Extinction.

Every day he would order his crew to check any and all transmissions for any hints, but none of them had anything positive to report. He was also listening out for any news of Commander Shepard and what she was up to; news of her return had spread to mixed reactions. She had even had some harsh words for a reporter from Westerlund News, rebutting her barely-disguised human bias and speaking with intensity about all who had lost their lives in the Battle of the Citadel, even reciting the names of all the ships that were destroyed. She sounded like the same strong-willed, decisive Shepard that Alan remembered, but he knew that he would have to see her with his own eyes before he could say for certain.

On the fifth day, their patrols happened to take the ship through the Hades Nexus cluster. According to their reports it was close to the Perseus Veil, beyond which was Geth territory. The crew had heard some very ominous stories about the fate of ships that strayed beyond the veil; their crews had apparently been turned into the Husks that they encountered on Chasca, reduced to mindless zombie-like creatures that had all of their organs replaced by machinery, and the ship sent back outside the veil to serve as a grisly reminder of what happened to those who intervened in the Geth's affairs. They had since learned that the technology to create the Husks had in fact come from the Reaper Sovereign, so they couldn't say for certain if the entire Geth used the technology or just the heretics who sided with Saren.

Still, it didn't pay to take chances anywhere in the Terminus Systems, so the crew was constantly on alert. It was as the ship was patrolling through the Sheol System when a radio transmission caught Alistair's attention. The signal was weak, and it took a few moments for him to adjust his equipment enough to make it out clearly. When he did, he immediately reached over to the intercom.

"Captain, get your arse up here!" he barked. "You're gonna wanna hear this!"

A few seconds later, Alan emerged on the bridge, not looking overly enthusiastic.

"This had better be important," he said grumpily. "I've got twenty credits on Dorva to beat Nicole at shufflepuck."

"Well, if you can find time in your 'busy schedule'," replied Alistair wryly, "I just picked up something on the short-wave frequencies. Sounds like a general distress call, coming from Gei Hinnom..." He turned the volume up on the transmitter so that Alan could hear the message.

"_Repeat!"_ a frightened-sounding female voice with an odd electronic quality to it was saying. _"This is Lt. Forzan vas Idenna of the scout ship Cyniad! Our ship has crash-landed on the first planet in the Sheol System, and we have wounded! We need immediate evac! Repeat!"_

"That's all it says over and over," said Alistair. "The name's definitely Quarian, but there's no way to tell how long ago this was sent. I'm not picking up any other Quarian vessels on the long-range scanners. You want us to take a look?"

"Might as well," Alan shrugged. "I don't think we'll be hearing anything about Cerberus, Shepard or the Collectors for a while."

"You know," Alistair said wryly, "sometimes I want the Reapers to drop in, just to give us a damn thing to do."

"Be careful what you wish for, mate," Alan replied, before speaking into the intercom. "Dorva, Nicole, get suited up. We're making planet-fall for a rescue mission."

"You sure you wanna suit up for this one, mate?" asked Alistair all of a sudden. "If they're Quarians down there, they'll probably think you're Kiryuu and shoot you as soon as they clap eyes on your armour."

"Fuck 'em," Alan said firmly. "If they're in as much trouble as they say they are, then they're getting my help whether they like it or not."

It only took a few minutes for the ship to speed through slip-space and reach the first planet in the system, Gei Hinnom. The planet was said to be a garden planet, though it was uninhabited. Apparently there had been disputes between various mining corporations in the past seeking to plunder the Element Zero reserves on the planet, but now it had been abandoned. As the _Serenity_ flew to the surface, buffeted by the winds, Alan wondered just what the Quarians were doing out here, so close to the Perseus Veil, in the first place.

Alistair had tried to radio for any survivors, but he had only received silence in reply. He traced the signal from the distress beacon and put the ship down in a small canyon, about half a mile away from the source of the beacon. A grassy path cut through the narrow rock walls, the large trees causing the sun to only poke through in filtered rays. Alan and Dorva were the first to step out, with Alan raising his Technomantic revolver and Dorva carrying a plasma rifle. Nicole was the last to step down from the cargo ramp, covered in her bulky blue armour, her assault rifle pressed close to her shoulder. Her helmet hid her face from view behind a golden visor; this aspect of the Spartan's famous armour was something which Alan considered eerie and rather de-humanising.

Seeing only one direction they could take, Alan led the team carefully through the small ravine. The branches of the trees overhead crossed each other, the immense leaves only allowing an eerie green glow to filter through, giving the group the impression that they were walking underwater. Every now and then they thought they heard a sound overhead, like an odd rustling coupled with low, steady growls. In the distance he thought he could hear the sound of gunfire.

Eventually the rock walls around them lowered in height and widened into a large clearing. The remains of a crude base camp could be seen, with various makeshift shelters and bunks half-destroyed and tossed around. Some of the canvas on the shelters looked as if large claws had slashed through it. Supply crates had been overturned, scattering their contents everywhere. The camp was in total disarray, and for one moment Alan thought they had arrived too late. What was strange to him was that there didn't seem to be any sign of bodies.

All of a sudden the sounds of gunshots rang out again, this time much closer to their position. The group instinctively ducked, peering all around them. It was a moment before Alan realised that they were not the ones being fired upon, and now animalistic howling could be heard above the gunfire. Creeping through the camp, they quickly came across a makeshift barricade, which looked very feeble and wouldn't last much longer. Crouched behind it were three figures, all wearing Quarian environmental suits. Quarian immune systems were almost non-existent, destroyed by generations of living on the sterile environment of the Flotilla, and thus they had to be continually protected from any possible contaminants. One was male, the other two were female. The male was the only one firing a gun, while the females sheltered; one of them was hunched over, apparently clutching a wound on her side.

Beyond the barricade were the bodies of what looked like several large animals. They were varren, which looked like bizarre hybrids of reptiles and dogs, with large fish-like eyes and ravenous appetites. Krogans domesticated them, and often used them as attack dogs. If there were packs of them on this planet, then there was no telling how long they had been attacking the camp. One thing was certain; the survivors had no chance if they tried to hold out any longer.

They approached the survivors carefully, trying not to startle them. Crouching behind the barricade, Alan approached the male while the other two attended to the females. The Quarians seemed to tense up as they approached, and Alan was sure that they would be regarding them with steely gazes if he could see their eyes through the tint on their visors.

"Are you all that's left of the _Cyniad_'s crew?" Alan asked the male, who fired two more shots before replying. The yelps of the dying varren were quickly silenced.

"That's right," replied the Quarian warily and in a rather gruff tone. "Forzan's hurt, and if we don't get off this planet fast we're all varren-food. I didn't think there'd be any ships out here to get our signal, but Forzan thought the Migrant Fleet might be nearby."

"Well, we'll just have to do," Alan replied in a rather snarky tone. He knew that most Quarians were borderline xenophobic and reluctant to trust outsiders, and that most of the galaxy considered them to be nothing more than thieves and scavengers. Relationships between them and the UNSC had also been sour since humans started expanding beyond the Orion Arm, due to one of their key leaders being an artificial intelligence. Indeed, as Nicole moved closer to Forzan to examine her wounds, the Quarian visibly tried to slide away from her, her breathing becoming more rapid. The other female looked at the trio of strangers, apparently seeming to be merely mildly curious about them.

"If you wanna get out of here, you haven't got any other options," Alan barked, as the male Quarian fired over the barricade and cutting down another rabid varren. "You and your friend carry Forzan, and we'll cover you. Now let's not stick around and wait for the Migrant Fleet to find just our bones!"

"Alright," grunted the Quarian, still sounding mistrusting. "We'll do this your way, for now." He jumped down from the barricade and put one of Forzan's arms around his shoulder, helping her to her feet. His companion joined in after a moment, helping to support the stricken captain's other side.

"Dorva! Nicole!" Alan shouted. "You take point! I'll bring up the rear!" As the three of them took position around the Quarians and began to move to the back of the camp, they could already hear the howling and panting of the varren getting closer. They had to have realised that the stream of gunfire had ceased, and they now had an opportunity to attack.

As the party moved as quickly as the injured Forzan would allow, Alan saw that they were walking into a bottleneck. The tops of the sides would be an ideal spot for an ambush. Almost as soon as he had thought this two packs of varren suddenly jumped down from amidst the trees, landing on either side of the group, as a third pack ran up from behind them, cutting off any retreat back to the camp.

Fortunately his team was fully alert, and as one of the varren leaped straight at Nicole she brought it down with a quick burst of rifle fire. She fired as the rest of the pack attack. Dorva opened fire too with his plasma rifles, and when one varren got too close for comfort he struck it with a bone-shattering roundhouse kick. Alan opened fire too, scattering the pack at the rear with an Inferno shot. As soon as the way was clear, the group ran for their lives, as quickly as they could without leaving the Quarians behind.

When they reached the clearing where _Serenity_ laid waiting for them, Nicole urged the Quarians ahead of her. The three of them ran up the cargo ramp and into the ship, Nicole and Dorva following close behind as they fired at more varren that came out of the trees towards them. Alan was the last to reach the ramp, chased by a varren that was hot on his heels. As it pounced, Alan suddenly spun around, whipping the creature with his reptilian tail and sending it slamming into a spot several feet away.

By the time the dazed creature regained its senses, unhappy at having been deprived a meal, the _Serenity_'s cargo ramp had lifted, and the ship was now taking off from the area, the jets sending dust and dirt flying everywhere.

0

Minutes later, the _Serenity_ was a safe distance from Gei Hinnom. Forzan's ship - the _Idenna _– had been contacted and was on its way to pick up its battered scouts, itself taking a detour from a surveillance mission. The loss of the _Cyniad_ seemed to have shaken the survivors hard, and they were rather quiet as the group waited for the _Idenna_ to arrive.

Forzan was taken to the medical bay, where she was tended to by Call. Knowing how resentful the Quarians were of AIs, they had thought it best not to mention Call's true nature as an android to them. This fact was not widely-publicised, so the Quarians were none the wiser. About ten minutes after the _Idenna_ had been hailed, Alan went to check on Forzan and Call.

"So how's our Quarian patient holding up?" he asked.

"She'll be fine," Call assured him. "A slight fever and a scratch, but I don't think there's any permanent damage. The technology on their suits is incredible! They can seal off individual parts of the suit, like how we would seal off part of a ship to contain a hull breach. I guess that's to prevent the spread of infection from an injury."

"It can't be easy fighting in a suit," Alan mused. "You'd have to watch out for infection as well as injury."

"We don't drop dead from the slightest infection, Captain," Forzan interrupted. "If that was possible, the Quarians would have died out a long time ago." She then sighed. "You would not be wrong, though. We have to rely on guerrilla tactics and subterfuge; a straight-up fight would be suicide to us."

"Well, just rest up until the _Idenna_ arrives," said Alan. "I'm just glad we were able to pull you out before you became varren chow."

"The feeling is mutual," replied Forzan, though she sounded reserved. Clearly she seemed to be uneasy on a human ship. Alan walked out of the infirmary and headed to the cargo bay where he saw the male pacing around, looking at the curved walls.

"Where's your friend?" Alan asked.

"Oh, she's off exploring the ship," grunted the male. "I told her to stay here, but once she gets an idea in her head she won't think about anything else."

"I guess kids will be like that," Alan shrugged. "Not that I would know; I've never had kids of my own."

The Quarian was still for a moment, and then resumed his pacing. It was then that, now that he had time to get a good look at him, Alan noticed several odd things about this Quarian. For one thing, his legs didn't bend in the same way that the ones on other Quarians did, and the lower legs were not significantly bowed backwards as they would be on a Quarian. He was also very tall for a Quarian, a few inches over six feet tall, and of a more muscular build. He also had five fingers on each hand, while Quarians generally had only three. Telek had taught him how to notice small details like that, and immediately Alan was sure that this person wasn't a Quarian at all. The environment suit was clearly of a Quarian design, but it had been altered to fit a non-Quarian anatomy. Now that he thought about it, he had noticed these things on the other Quarian who was with Forzan. He didn't know what the reaction would be if he called him out on it right away, so he tried a more subtle tack.

"Looking forward to getting home?" he asked.

"Kind of," said the 'Quarian'. "I've enjoyed the time scouting on the _Cyniad_, but sometimes you just want to be back at the Migrant Fleet, you know? I'm sure you've got family waiting for you back on Earth, right?"

"You could say that," said Alan off-handedly. "You have any family there that I can pass a message on to next time I'm there?"

It took a few seconds for the imposter to realise what Alan had said. When he did his body froze, and he turned to Alan. He quickly tried to hide his shock, but even though Alan couldn't see his face clearly the body language made it apparent that the figure knew he was rumbled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said quickly, and not in a convincing manner. Alan advanced slowly and threateningly on him, never taking his eyes off the obscured face. The figure backed away, straight into a large stack of cargo crates. In desperation he reached for the shotgun strapped to his lower back, but Alan was too fast, drawing his own revolver and pointing it right at the figure's visor. His cat-like eyes narrowed as the 'Quarian' dropped the shotgun onto the floor.

"Start talking," Alan snarled, his own voice sounding it was mingled with a bestial growl.

"Calm down, Captain!" the stranger said in a more measured tone, but one that still betrayed a hint of fear. "Listen to me. I can explain!"

"Hendel!" a girl's voice suddenly called from the gantry. Alan knew better than to let anything startle him at such a crucial stage, so he never took his eyes off the stranger as footsteps were heard, taking the stairs at a run and then stopping a short distance away.

"Gillian, keep back!" the man shouted. "Don't do anything rash! He's not going to hurt us!"

"That's a pretty daft thing to say, isn't it?" Alan snorted. "It all depends on what you've got to tell me. Now explain what a pair of humans is doing on the Migrant Fleet. Quarians aren't known for taking in strays from other races. Don't even think of fucking lying to me. I'll know if you have, and I'll throw you out of the airlock."

Alan was now painfully aware that he was now starting to sound and act like Telek. Clearly all of those years spent in the brutal training regimen of Sangheili Special Operations warriors were showing on him. The false Quarian sighed and pulled his helmet away, revealing a strong-looking male human face with rusty-brown hair and cropped beard and moustache.

"My name is Hendel Mitra," the man explained, his name betraying his mixed heritage. "I was an instructor at the Grissom Academy."

"The Grissom Academy?" Alan asked. "That's that school for psionic kids, right? I've seen it advertised on the extranet."

"That's right," Hendel nodded. "All of the students have the new biotic amplifier ports developed by Omak-Argon. It was an attempt to use eezo to further empower a psion's capabilities and bring them more in line with those of the Asari. The Grissom Academy was set up to help teach kids how to control this power, in a way that was less destructive and alienating than the BAaT program we tried to set up with the Turians."

Alan had to admit that he didn't know the exact nature of bio-amps before this, but now he felt very frightened at the thought of hundreds of people walking around using King Ghidorah's own energy in their very bodies. He was surprised that the UNSC hadn't shut the project down after the true nature of Element Zero was discovered. They really had changed if they were no longer prepared to act on Kiryuu's mere word anymore.

"So what's a psionic instructor doing with the Migrant Fleet?" he asked, keeping his tone steady, with just the right amount of disbelief to keep Hendel on-edge. "And what's her story?" he added, indicating the other human-in-disguise.

"She is a student of mine," replied Hendel. "Her name's Gillian Grayson. Her foster father, Paul, turned out to be a Cerberus agent. They wanted Gillian for themselves, for her abilities..." At this point, he fell silent, looking unsure.

"Come on, spit it out," Alan said impatiently. "What's so special about Gillian that makes Cerberus want to get their claws on her?" Hendel was silent for a moment before he continued.

"She's a Technomancer," he said gravely. "Not just any Technomancer, but potentially a really powerful one. The few tests that we did with her during the Grissom Academy days showed her potential to be off-the-charts. She could probably access her true power if her brain was wired the right way."

"What do you mean?" asked Alan.

"She's autistic," Hendel sighed. "She was diagnosed with a form of Asperger's Syndrome when she was younger. She's brilliant, but has never been able to function well when talking to others, and she really doesn't like being touched. As soon as she got that Quarian suit she didn't want to take it off. Despite all that she was a great student.

"Anyway, Cerberus was using her and Paul to infiltrate the Ascension Program. They thought that she had the potential to be the saviour of the human race, whatever that means. Their agents in the program poisoned her and worsened her condition, trying to turn her into a weapon. When we discovered this they came after her directly. It's a long story, but this lead us to the Migrant Fleet, who decided to give us their protection. Paul believed in Cerberus for a long time, but in the end, when they attacked the Migrant Fleet to try and take Gillian away, he came to his senses and defected to our side. He went into hiding, letting Gillian stay with the fleet. I stayed with her as her guardian."

Alan watched Hendel carefully. Every line on his face was fearful, yet it didn't seem to be the kind of fear that came about when there was a chance a lie would be exposed. He seemed to be being truthful, and it was clear that he genuinely had this Gillian girl's best interests at heart. For the time being, he decided to give Hendel the benefit of the doubt and lowered his weapon. Besides, if Gillian really was a Technomancer then he knew that she could tear him apart if she so much as had a dirty thought.

"Let's assume what you say is true," Alan said guardedly. "Will we expect trouble from the Quarians when we get here?"

"I'll smooth things over with them," replied Hendel. "Forzan's highly respected in the Fleet; I doubt she'd want to see the people who saved her executed. Besides, I think it's pretty obvious you're not Cerberus agents."

"I'm still not convinced you aren't," Alan said cagily. "Those guys are like cockroaches; they get everywhere."

"You're not wrong there," Hendel said darkly. "It was a bad enough situation two years ago when I joined the Migrant Fleet. There's no telling how deeply they have sunk their teeth into the UNSC now."

Much of the rest of the time waiting for the Quarians was spent in silence, while Alan thought about what Hendel had said. It was true that the UNSC had been behaving oddly for a while; they really seemed to be dragging their heels on the Reaper issue, and even Anderson's acceptance into the Council had not raised humanity's profile much in the eyes of the other races. Alan knew that President Mendoza was firmly on Kiryuu's side; was it possible that Cerberus had really infiltrated the UNSC to such a degree as to stifle him? It was as if the events of two years ago had never happened.

Eventually the _Idenna_ arrived. The ship somewhat resembled a tadpole in shape, with a large circular front that turned like a wheel attached to a long 'stem'. It looked like it had been cobbled together from the parts of various ships; Alan thought he could see scraps of plating from a Sangheili cruiser. While Alan still didn't trust the Quarians entirely, he could not help but admire their ingenuity when it came to technology.

The _Serenity_ was guided to the docking cradle, and soon was securely attached. The crew, however, could not step on board due to the ship being 'unclean'. Instead, a quarantine crew would come on board to escort the passengers onto the ship. Alan understood that this was a necessary measure for any new ships to prevent the spread of infectious disease among the fleet, but it still made Alan feel as if he had stepped out of some kind of biological attack. The crew gathered in the cargo bay, along with Forzan, Hendel and Gillian as the Quarian security forces stepped on board, holding rifles and peering around them. Alan was sure he could see at least one of them shake their head disapprovingly.

"Talk about a warm welcome," Alistair said with barely-disguised sarcasm.

The last Quarian to emerge through the airlock wasn't carrying a weapon, and carried himself with more authority than his kin. Alan assumed that this was some kind of leader, possibly the captain of the _Idenna_, but it was impossible to be sure as his environment suit was no different from any other. There was no distinguishing mark, no special symbol that displayed his rank. Alan wondered if things ever got confusing when the Quarians tried to identify their leaders. The figure stopped just in front of Alan, and then saluted in respect.

"Captain Tyler," the Quarian said, "I am Ysin'Mal vas Idenna, Captain of the Idenna. We all owe you a great debt for returning our friends safely. 'May you stand between your crew and harm as you lead them through the empty quarters of the stars.'"

"Keelah selai," Forzan chimed in before turning to Alan. "It is an old ship captain's blessing, Captain Tyler."

"Yeah, same to you," replied Alan, unsure of how else to respond. "If you don't mind me asking, what's the latest news from the Migrant Fleet?"

"I'm surprised an Earthling would show interest in our affairs," Ysin'Mal replied. "Most think of us as thieves and vagabonds."

"Well, I'm surprised you're being so amiable," Alan retorted. "I got the impression Quarians wanted nothing to do with our little planet. I'm sure you know why."

"Ah, yes..." Ysin'Mal said darkly. Clearly he was thinking of Kiryuu and his true nature. "That is not something I wish to discuss right now. All that matters to me is that you brought the _Cyniad_'s survivors home safely. It is a great shame to lose that ship; she had a lot of history behind it."

"So, to re-iterate," Alan said, "what's the news from the fleet, and why are you so far away from it?"

"We're on a scouting mission," replied Ysin'Mal. "We're trying to find a new world that our people could populate and make our own. We're supposed to be done with this mission in three years' time, but from the lack of success we have had I suspect we'll be going home a lot sooner. Even if we found a new world it would take us generations to adapt our immune systems, but it's better than staying on the Flotilla waiting for our resources to run out. There is talk among the Admiralty Board of trying to reclaim our home-world from the Geth, but that issue is still up in the air. I still say it's worth our time to try to find a Reaper, and then our chances would be improved significantly."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Alan spluttered. "You actually want to find a Reaper, of all things?"

"I do, at least," Ysin'Mal nodded. "Once we find one, we can find out how it works, and use it to control the Geth once again. Our home-world could be taken back with no loss of life, which is what will happen if old warhorses like Han'Gerrel get their way and we end up fighting a war."

Alan felt as if his brain was about to explode. Quite aside from the fact that he didn't know how the Migrant Fleet knew about the Reapers without dismissing them, Ysin'Mal's idea was completely insane. Nobody could resist a Reaper's indoctrination; Saren Arterius had been proof of that.

"Listen to me, Captain," Alan said forcibly, "trust me when I say that that is an incredibly bad idea! I've seen a Reaper up-close; you don't want to be in the same galaxy as them!"

"It's only a machine, Captain Tyler," Ysin'Mal shrugged. "Machines can be fixed."

Alan shook his head in disbelief. "You have no fucking idea..." he muttered.

"Just let it go, Captain," said Call. "He'll end up learning the truth someday. Everyone will, even if it's when the Reapers are staring them in the face."

It was clear that the _Serenity_ crew had somewhat worn out their welcome, for Ysin'Mal backed away from Alan. Their eyes never left each other, as both silently judged the other's worth.

"We should be getting back to our mission," said Ysin'Mal. "Thank you once again, Captain Tyler, for your deed." With another salute, he left the ship, the quarantine crew following him. Forzan followed, with Hendel turning to face Gillian.

"Gillian," he said. "It's time to go. Come on now."

However, Gillian remained where she was. Even when Hendel called again, she didn't move. Sighing, Hendel walked over to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"I'm not going with you, Hendel," answered Gillian. Compared to the more emotional tone she had before when Hendel seemed to be in danger, now her voice was very monotone.

"Come on, Gillian," Hendel said more forcefully, almost as if he was trying to command a disobedient dog. When he approached her she just backed away.

"I'm going with Captain Tyler," she said, again in a monotone. "I have to find my dad."

"But, Gillian, it's not safe out there!" Hendel pleaded. "Do you know what Cerberus will do once they find out you're away from the fleet?" Still Gillian remained rooted to the spot.

"I have to find my dad," she said again.

Hendel sighed, and walked over to Alan.

"I've been dreading this day for a long time," he said quietly. "I knew Gillian would get curious about her father someday, but I hoped..." He looked over at Gillian with a pained look, before turning back to Alan. "You'll have to take her with you, Captain," he said, sounding unconvinced that it was a good idea.

"Me?" Alan burst out, indignantly. "Oh no... We can't do this. We've got our own mission to do!"

"Like I said to you before," Hendel said pressingly, "once Gillian gets an idea into her head, she has to see it through. She's not going to leave this ship until she finds Paul. Besides..." He looked back at Gillian, who was now looking all around the cargo bay. "She seems to have grown rather attached to your ship."

Alan shook his head. He knew that this was a very bad idea; he didn't like the idea of having someone as vulnerable, not to mention as wanted, as Gillian on-board the ship. It brought up a lot of complications which they really did not need. However, it was clear to him that Hendel would not take no for an answer, and Gillian certainly would not. In the end, he sighed and nodded.

"Why don't you come with us?" Alan asked. "You said she's autistic, right? She'd probably feel more comfortable with someone she knows around."

"I wish I could," Hendel sighed. "We're short-staffed though. We could afford to lose one person, but not any more."

"Alright, alright," Alan said. "If we find out anything about her father we'll look into it. That's only if we find out anything. Our own mission's too important to ignore. Also, the minute she endangers my crew or my ship, we're dragging her back to the Migrant Fleet. I suppose you'll have to go get her stuff."

"She doesn't have anything to take with her," said Hendel as he slipped his helmet back on. "She left everything behind when we left the UNSC. Anyway, she won't be any trouble. Just be gentle with her; she'll have difficulty adjusting to you all." He looked back towards the cargo bay door, where Forzan was beckoning him over. "I'd better go and explain everything to them. All that's left for me to do is to wish you the best of luck, and take good care of Gillian. If anything happens to her-"

"You'll be well within your rights to kick my arse from here to Hades," Alan interrupted. "You just watch yourself, and be careful." He leaned in closer to Hendel and lowered his voice. "Don't let the Quarians do anything foolish, especially when it comes to the Geth and the Reapers."

Hendel was silent, but gave a salute and left the cargo bay. As the door closed and sealed behind him, Alan shook his head, grim-faced.

"Those Quarians are fucking idiots..." he muttered.

"I agree," said Alistair. "I can't believe the arsehole thinks they can control a Reaper. The sooner we get away from here, the better. I'll go prep the ship for departure and wait for the all-clear." With that, Alistair bounded up the stairs and along the gantries to the bridge. Alan sighed and turned to look at Gillian, who was now peering at him. It was difficult to judge her body language; she seemed to be permanently stuck in 'neutral'.

"Call," said Alan, looking over at the android. "Show Gillian to one of the passenger cabins."

"Of course, Captain," Call nodded before beckoning for Gillian to follow her. "Miss Grayson, right this way."

Gillian was still for a moment, then nodded, following Call towards the common room. Alan, Dorva and Nicole all stood in the cargo bay, lost in thought.

"Her presence will make our lives more difficult if Cerberus finds out she's with us," said Dorva darkly.

"The squid's right," said Nicole. "You sure we're doing the right thing, Captain? I'm guessing we'll face death a number of times. You think she can handle it?"

"I don't know," Alan said. "We'll just have to keep her on the ship, and keep her out of harm's way. If Cerberus comes looking for her, we'll just have to deal with it. If she's really as powerful as they seem to think she is, she's as much a threat to us as she is to anyone else. The best we can do right now is to try to keep her comfortable."

"_Captain?"_ Alistair's voice suddenly sounded over the intercom. _"I'm getting a transmission from Earth. I think you're gonna want to take this call."_

"What now?" Alan groaned as he, Nicole and Dorva headed up to the bridge.

"I've got Kiryuu on the line," said Alistair.

"Well, this can't be good news then," Alan muttered as he sat at the co-pilot's console and patched the signal through. "What is it, granddad?"

"_First of all,"_ said Kiryuu in a rather haughty tone, _"there is no need to be so irritable with me."_

"We've just had some rather uncomfortable encounters with the Quarians," said Alan darkly. "I got the impression they still don't like you."

"_They haven't done anything to you, have they?"_ asked Kiryuu firmly.

"No, nothing like that," said Alan. "Anyway, what did you want?"

"_We've got trouble,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Just now some confidential information was leaked onto the extranet, namely the location of a mutual acquaintance of ours. Do you remember Kaidan Alenko, Alan?"_

"That Technomancer who was on the _Normandy_ two years ago?" replied Alan. "Yeah, I remember him. I think he and Shepard were a bit of an item."

"_That's the one,"_ nodded Kiryuu. _"Someone has leaked his position onto the extranet. He's been out in the Terminus Systems, officially as part of an outreach program by the UNSC, to try to win back some sympathy from the human colonies out there."_

"Must be the same program they claimed I was on," Nicole chimed in.

"_In reality, however,"_ Kiryuu went on, _"Kaidan was out there on a top-secret assignment. I personally gave him the order. He was out there looking for any sign of the Precursors."_

"The Precursors?" Dorva exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"_With the Reapers on the way,"_ said Kiryuu, _"I think it is more important than ever that we learn all we can about those who gave the gift of Technomancy to the humans; contact them, if we can. I thought that Kaidan's abilities as a Technomancer made him a perfect fit for the job. He's currently on Horizon, trying to make peace with the colony there. It's true that Commander Shepard would want to make contact with Kaidan; Councillor Anderson gave me a call a few days ago that confirmed this. Now Kaidan's position has been compromised, and I highly doubt that whoever leaked this information did it for Shepard's benefit."_

At once Hendel's warning about Cerberus infiltrating the UNSC rang in Alan's head. Were they behind this? Whoever did, they clearly wished harm on Kaidan, for now everybody out for his blood knew where to look, including any agents of the Reapers...

"He's got to make himself scarce," Alan said firmly.

"_I know,"_ said Kiryuu. _"I contacted him personally, but he refuses to leave until the new AA guns are online. He's concerned about the colony attacks, and wants to make sure the colony's prepared in case there is any trouble."_

"Then we're going there," said Alan firmly. "I get the feeling trouble's heading his way now. He's going to need backup."

"_Exactly,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Be extremely careful. Anderson told me what Shepard said about the Collectors; if they're behind the attacks and they're working for the Reapers, we're all in big trouble. Avoid engaging with them if it's at all possible, at least until we know more about how we can effectively fight them."_

"Somehow I think that'll be easier said than done," said Alan darkly. "We'll get to Horizon right away. _Serenity_ out."

As the channel was closed, a beeping sound came from Alistair's console.

"Ah, good timing," he said. "The Quarians have given us the all-clear. I guess it's safe to take our passenger with us." As he disconnected the ship from the docking clamps, Alistair turned to him. "You didn't tell him about Gillian."

"Probably best to keep quiet about that for the time being," said Alan. "I don't doubt Kiryuu would want to know about her, but not yet. Let her get used to us first before we start shoving Kiryuu in her face. Anyway, get us to Horizon now."

"You don't need to tell me twice," said Alistair, steering the ship away from the _Idenna_ at breakneck speed. Alan now realised that this was the second time he'd be having a reunion with a _Normandy_ team member; he only wished these meetings were under better circumstances.


	9. The Storm on the Horizon

**The Storm on the Horizon**

The human colony on Horizon was unremarkable in every respect. Like so many other human colonies out in the Terminus Systems, it was full of people who had sought to leave behind the strict regulations of the Council. There was a great deal of resentment towards the UNSC out in the Terminus Systems; after three decades of bloody war against the Covenant, many perceived the UNSC's co-operation with the alien Council as a betrayal, feeling that they were going soft on the aliens, particularly with the Sangheili, who had helped to almost make them extinct. To try to help those colonies was an unenviable task, since nobody in the Terminus Systems wanted the UNSC's help.

Working out on this colony, Kaidan Alenko was getting a first-hand experience of the colonists' ill-feeling towards the UNSC. In spite of being one of the team who had defeated Saren and saved the galaxy from the Reapers, no-one out in the Terminus Systems knew or cared. He had received a lot of dirty looks and mistrustful comments, with the colonists eager to blame him for every little thing that went wrong. Many felt that installing the AA guns here was sure to bring trouble down on their heads, and Kaidan wasn't sure if he could blame them. Still, he had a job to do, and he didn't want another colony to be taken by whoever was responsible. His other mission would just have to wait a little longer; he had recently received the order to evacuate, but he didn't like leaving without making sure the colony's defences were up to scratch.

He walked down the main drag, and soon found himself joined by a brown-haired woman named Lilith. She was the only colonist who didn't seem to instinctively hate him, and any help she gave wasn't given begrudgingly. He suspected that she liked him more than she let on; something in her posture and expressions told him that. However, events had gotten complicated recently, especially with some disturbing rumours he had heard, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to settle down just yet. Feeling frustrated, he rubbed a hand through his short black hair as he walked.

"Lilith," he said, "we've got a problem."

"Still can't calibrate the targeting matrix?" asked Lilith.

"Those defence towers are useless if we don't figure it out," said Kaidan, frustrated, his ill mood not helped when someone bumped his shoulder while walking past them. It clearly was no accident as there was plenty of room to walk by.

"Sorry, Commander," said Lilith apologetically. "Getting our comm. systems back online takes priority."

The communications array had suddenly gone down with no warning. The colonists were already working on fixing it, but it was proving to be another source of headaches for Kaidan, who didn't like the idea of the setup being delayed any longer.

"Yeah..." he said, wryly. "Okay. Surprised people haven't tried to pin that one on me too."

"People out here don't trust the Alliance," Lilith reminded him gently. "It's nothing personal."

As they stood there, a low rumbling sound suddenly became audible. As it gradually increased in volume, the ground seemed to tremble under their feet.

"What is that?" asked Lilith. She and Kaidan both turned up to the blue sky, which was now suddenly starting to turn darker. As the colonists gathered around for a better look, Kaidan drew his assault rifle and pointed it upwards towards the odd cloud formation. Peering through the scope, he saw bolts of lightning suddenly shoot out, and something that looked like a giant rock formation slowly crept through the clouds. If it was a spaceship, Kaidan had never seen one like it. He had the horrible feeling he was about to find out what had been behind the missing colonists, though he had already had his suspicions.

"Get everybody to the safehouse!" he barked at Lilith. Even as he spoke, he saw what looked like a black cloud shoot out of the strange ship and come swooping towards the colonists at incredible speed. It looked like a giant swarm of locusts.

"I'll cover you!" Kaidan shouted, firing his rifle at the dark insect-cloud. "Run! Hurry!" However, the insects moved so fast that it was impossible to shoot even one of them down.

The population of the colony panicked and ran, as the swarm descended on them. Firing at the swarm, Kaidan turned around and saw that Lilith had stumbled and fallen. Quickly helping her to her feet, he pushed her towards the fleeing crowd while he tried to fire at the swarm again.

However, he paid dearly for his momentary lapse of concentration, for he felt a sharp sting on his neck. Reaching up to it, he pulled one of the insects off. It was green, had wings and was bigger than his hand. It also had a large stinger, which even now was trying to flex and reach his hand.

As Kaidan tossed it to the floor and crushed it with his boot, he suddenly felt his muscles beginning to tighten, and within seconds he couldn't feel any part of his body at all. He remained stood there, as stiff as a statue. Even though his body was frozen, however, his mind remained very much awake. Helpless, all he could do was pray that Lilith and the colonists had got to safety, but as the dark cloud of the swarm grew thicker, he began to realise that it was a fool's hope. Whoever these attackers were, the colonists belonged to them now...

0

The _Serenity_ crew had tried to make contact with the colony on Horizon, but all channels were met with a stony silence. Fearing the worst, Alistair sent the ship careening through the atmosphere. Their sensors had picked up something enormous right by the site of the colony. No doubt it was a ship belonging to the attackers. Alistair decided that the safest place to put down was on the north side of the colony, near the main drag. Praying that the attackers had not detected their presence, the ship was guided to a small grassy area close to the colony entrance. A short distance away were what looked like farms, with large irrigation devices.

The ship hovered above the ground, sending dust everywhere, as a hatch in the bottom opened up. Alan, Dorva and Nicole, all ready for combat in their armour and with their weaponry drawn, stepped out from underneath the ship as it lifted off back into the atmosphere.

"Get the ship a safe distance from here," said Alan into his commlink. "If these guys get wise to your presence, bug out."

"_Aye-aye, Captain,"_ replied Alistair, sounding apprehensive. _"Be careful."_

Watching the _Serenity_ speed away from the area, the group saw the attacker's ship. It was stood on its end, and resembled a giant termite mound growing out of a vast cylinder of intricately-placed metal. With a sickening jolt, Alan realised where he had seen that shape before.

"A Collector ship..." he breathed. "So the Collectors really are behind the attacks..."

"The question is how they are abducting so many and without leaving a trace..." Dorva muttered. "In any case we can't stand here wondering about it; if we don't move now, there's no telling how many they'll take."

Alan nodded, and led the team into the colony itself. A low buzzing could be heard overhead, and looking up Alan saw what looked like small black clouds, hovering about thirty feet above the colony. Narrowing his eyes, he soon came to see that they were actually swarms of large insects.

"This can't be good..." he muttered. "Some kind of weapon used by the Collectors?"

"Maybe..." Nicole replied. "Why haven't they gone for us yet though?"

Alan remained silent, which Nicole took to meaning as him not having any idea. It was strange that the bugs didn't seem to be doing anything other than flying around in swarms, and as the trio pressed on further into the colony, past the deserted buildings, Alan found his heart beating faster.

All of a sudden there was a loud buzzing noise. Spinning around, Alan saw one of the insect swarms suddenly speeding down towards them. Alan braced himself for a collision, but oddly the swarm flew straight past both him and Dorva, heading straight for Nicole. The Spartan fired her rifle and waved her arms, trying to shake the insects off, and there was a metallic ringing noise which Alan assumed to be the stingers of the insects trying to penetrate the armour.

"Get them off me!" Nicole shrieked, desperately trying to bat the insects away. Both Alan and Dorva raised their weapons, but neither of them knew if they should shoot or not. They were bound to hit Nicole if they tried, and there was no guarantee that the insects would not come after them instead. Alan felt as if he was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Thankfully, after a few seconds, the swarm dispersed by itself, scattering to the skies. Alan ran over to Nicole, who seemed very shaken; he could even hear her fast breathing through her helmet. She hated insects above all other things, especially when they were so large. Alan knew that they brought back too many bad memories for her.

"Are you okay?" Alan asked.

"Still in one piece," Nicole gasped. "It sounded like a thousand tiny hammers knocking in here though."

"I've just realised it..." Dorva said suddenly, making Alan jump.

"What?" he asked, impatiently.

"Those swarms only attacked Nicole," Dorva replied. "I don't think they're living creatures; they must be commanded or programmed to only target humans. They seemed to understand that they could not penetrate Nicole's armour, though."

"Right," Alan said firmly. "Let's not go attracting their attention then. Don't do anything that might provoke them."

Feeling as if he would pass out from nerves, Alan led the others towards the main drag. As they approached they saw a very disturbing sight. All around them, as stiff as statues, were a number of humans. These had to be the colonists, and they looked as if they had been frozen in the middle of what they were doing. Some were running, others were picking themselves up after falling, all of them had horrified expressions on their faces. Carefully, Alan approached one, and saw some of the insects crawling all over the paralysed figures. A dark haze seemed to cover the figures. He gasped in shock as a pair of eyes moved in his direction, unable to move anything else. He managed to get over the shock long enough to notice a large bite-mark in the neck of the unfortunate colonist.

"It must be these insects..." he said to the others. "They must inject their victims with some kind of nerve toxin, and a bloody powerful one at that if it can freeze the victims like this. I'd also guess the bugs make some kind of stasis field to keep the victims frozen; the toxin must not last long. From the way the eyes moved I'd say some parts of them are still aware."

"To be frozen like this..." Dorva said gravely. "To be able to do nothing but watch helplessly... It is like something out of my worst nightmares."

"I don't think there's anything we can do for them right now," said Alan. "The best we can do is hope the bugs leave and the fields drop."

Hardly daring to breath, the trio rounded a corner onto the main drag, but then had to quickly duck out of sight behind a wall. For there in front of them were the creatures that Alan could only assume were the Collectors. They resembled humanoid insects, covered in brown carapaces and with four glowing eyes on their expression-less faces. They were also very tall, and a multitude of extra appendages could be seen on their waists, twitching and clicking of their own accord. Some of them were on patrol, carrying strange rifles that resembled insect carapaces. There was also a number of what looked like large coffin-like pods, into which the Collectors were placing the paralysed colonists. The small insect drones swooped away when they did so, suggesting that the fields were down and the toxin was wearing off. Not that the colonist would have a chance to escape, for they were quickly placed inside the pods, which sealed up as soon as their bodies touched the insides.

"This is unbelievable..." Dorva muttered.

"What do they want with so many humans?" Nicole asked.

"If what Kiryuu said is true and they're working for the Reapers," Alan muttered furiously, "it could be any number of reasons." He could feel his breath becoming harsher, and his blood boiled at the thought of what the Collectors were doing. As he peered back around the corner for another look, his heart stopped dead when he saw one figure in-particular amongst the victims. He let out an audible gasp.

"What is it?" asked Nicole.

"It's Kaidan!" Alan snarled. "The bastards have got Kaidan! We've gotta help him!"

"Alan, that's suicide!" Nicole muttered furiously. "You're no match for all of them at once!"

"Nothing's gonna stop me trying!" Alan snarled. "Now give me some cover! I'll be damned if the Collectors get one more person today!" With that, he drew the handle of his whip and sprinted out from behind the wall.

"Alan, no!" Nicole called, but it was too late. Alan was already halfway across the drag, running as fast as his legs would allow. He had never mastered Para'rothu, and thus was not as quick as Telek was on the battlefield, but that didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that he reached Kaidan before he got sealed in one of the pods. The Collectors carrying his limp body were only a few feet away from their goal...

Vaulting over a low wall, Alan drew the line of his whip and switched it to the plasma setting. The nanowire whip suddenly became coated in a sheet of white-hot plasma as Alan charged straight at the Collectors. The bizarre aliens didn't notice Alan approaching until it was far too late. Lashing out with the whip, Alan struck one Collector and it went down straightaway, the flesh torn apart by the plasma and sending brown fluid everywhere. The second one tried to draw its weapon, but it too fell as its head became reduced to a pulp. Kaidan's body hit the floor and the Technomancer gave a low grunt; he was still alive and beginning to come to, but clearly in no condition to move at that point.

As Alan bent down to check on Kaidan, streams of golden plasma shot past him. Retracting the whip and concealing it, Alan grabbed Kaidan's shoulders and pulled him behind the low wall. He felt the Collectors' weaponry pound against his shields, but luckily they held together. Bullets and plasma fire shot out from behind him as Dorva and Nicole joined in the fray, taking down two Collectors before joining Alan behind the wall.

"Kaidan!" Alan called as Dorva and Nicole returned fire. "Come on, Kaidan! Pull yourself together!"

Kaidan groaned for a moment, slowly opening his eyes. Though he seemed to be regaining feeling in his upper body, he still felt incredibly numb. He was very surprised to open his eyes and find Alan standing over him, his eyes visible behind the amber screens of his helmet and full of concern.

"Whu... wha?" he grunted faintly, forcing his mouth to work properly. "Captain Tyler? What are you...?"

"No time to explain!" Alan shouted. "We need your help! Now on your feet, soldier!"

It was soon apparent that it would take a few moments longer for Kaidan to recover. Though he began to lift his arm it would still take time for the toxin to be flushed out of his system. Time, however, was not on their side as the Collectors pressed in closer to their position. Some of them, Nicole saw, were using what looked like thin wings to propel themselves onto the roofs of the buildings, trying to flank them.

"Incoming!" Dorva shouted, peering behind him. Turning to look where the Sangheili was looking, Alan was horrified to see that the swarms of insects were swooping straight towards them. Obviously it didn't matter now that they weren't human; they were moving in to attack anything that threatened their masters. They hadn't been able to penetrate Nicole's armour, but that had only been a small group; Alan didn't want to find out how long they would last. Parts of Dorva's body were exposed in spite of his jet-black warrior armour; he would certainly get caught. It looked as if their rescue attempt would be for nothing...

Suddenly something shot out from behind Alan, casting a cyan glow. It was what looked like a large bundle of very fine cyan threads, shooting out and then spreading all around him at incredible speed. It was as if a huge spider's web was being built right in front of him in record time. As the swarm of bugs approached the web, they were suddenly blasted back, unable to penetrate the web-wall. The wall spread all around the group, forming a dome-shaped shield that covered a wide area.

Looking back towards the source of the threads, Alan saw that they were spreading out from Kaidan's outstretched arm, and were growing out of the back of his head. He had managed to regain enough motor function to pull them out and was now using them to form a shield, his face contorted in concentration, desperate to stay awake. As Alan watched, another set of threads was already growing out of him, spreading along his other arm and shooting out to reinforce the shield further. Alan knew how reluctant Kaidan was to use his Technomantic power; there was some kind of incident years ago which he didn't like to discuss, but at this time they needed his abilities more than ever.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up..." Kaidan grunted.

"Hang in there, mate!" Alan shouted. In spite of the shields, the Collector's shots were able to pass through and more laser fire shot over their cover. "There's gotta be a way to get these guys out of here!"

"The defence turrets..." Kaidan said. "If we can get them online, we can attack their ship! We've gotta get to the control panel in the main plaza!"

"Can you walk?" Alan barked as he, Dorva and Nicole returned fire.

"I think so..." Kaidan grunted, moving his legs with slow, painful-looking movements. "I think their poison's wearing off!"

"Well, we can't stay here forever!" Alan called. "We go when I give the word. We may have to take it slow! Nicole, stay close to Kaidan and keep him safe!" As Kaidan managed to lift himself to his feet, widening the radius of the shield, Alan shouted "Go!"

The shield was wide enough to let them reach a set of cargo crates that would serve as their next cover. Alan and Dorva dashed through first, firing their weaponry and cutting down a number of Collectors before diving behind the crates. Kaidan moved as quickly as he could, to keep the others safely in the shield as the insects pounded against it, but he still seemed rather weak in the knees. However, Nicole planted herself firmly between him and the Collectors, her bullets tearing more of them apart. in spite of their insect hides, they were no stronger than any other organic.

As the group pressed further into the colony, the number of Collectors began to thin out. It seemed as if most of their attention was focused elsewhere, as some of them actually abandoned the fight to fly somewhere towards the far side of the colony.

"Where the hell are they going?" Nicole called.

"Who cares?" Alan snapped. "We've gotta press on!"

Looking over at Kaidan, it was clear that the Collectors weren't the real problem. That was the swarms, which were still desperately trying to break through the Technomantic shield relentlessly. The effort of stopping them was clearly taking its toll on Kaidan, as he was beginning to stagger and stumble, barely keeping on his feet.

"I... can't..." he grunted, his face streaked with sweat.

"Just a little further!" Alan shouted. "We're almost there!" They were now alongside a large warehouse, close to the central plaza. As they moved carefully along, the sounds of gunfire from the plaza reached his ears.

"Who the hell's that?" Nicole shouted. "Did any of the colonists make it to a shelter?"

"I don't know..." Kaidan grunted.

"Even if they did," asked Dorva, "why haven't the swarms caught them?"

More Collectors fired upon them from above, as they clearly raced to get to the fight in the plaza. The group shot several of them down, sending them crashing into the buildings. It was then that several things happened at once. First, there was a sudden ghostly wail coming from the plaza and the gunfire ceased. Then there was a pounding noise, and looking up the group could see that the defence turrets were now firing on the Collector ship. Whoever was shooting the guns had obviously managed to get them back online. They didn't seem to be causing a lot of damage, but they did enough to spook the Collectors, for there was a deafening roar as the ship's rockets ignited. Dust was sent everywhere as the ship blasted off the ground and shot upwards towards space. At the same time, the swarms that had been hounding the group suddenly flew away, racing back to follow the ship at top speed. As they did so, the shield retracted, and the fine Technomantic threads shrank back into the back of Kaidan's head. He propped himself against a wall, trying to steady his breathing. Clearly the danger had passed.

"We couldn't stop them from getting the colonists..." Nicole said gravely.

"We saved as many as we could," said Dorva consolingly. "With any luck the paralysed ones should begin to recover now. We've managed more than anyone has since the attacks began."

"Small consolation..." Alan sighed. He moved over to Kaidan, who was now back on his feet, putting on a brave face. "You okay?" asked Alan.

"I'll be fine," said Kaidan. "You weren't a moment too soon back there. Another few seconds and I'd be on that ship with them."

Then they heard a voice coming from the plaza. It was a desperate male voice.

"No!" he shouted. "Don't let 'em get away!"

"Sounds like Delan," Kaidan said, as the group ran into the plaza and waited behind a large cargo container. As they did so, a more familiar voice spoke, one that managed an impressive mix of both authority and sympathy:

"There's nothing we can do," the female voice said. "They're gone."

"It can't be..." Kaidan gasped. He exchanged looks with Alan. They both knew who the female speaker was, but they hardly dared to believe the chances of this happening.

"Half the colony's in there!" Delan ranted. "They took Egan and Sam and... and Lilith! Do something!"

Kaidan's eyes closed and he took in a deep breath. Regret was on every line of his face. Clearly somebody he liked had been among the victims.

"I didn't want it to end this way," the female said, betraying only the faintest hint of irritation. "I did what I could."

"It was a good fight, Shepard," a deep, guttural voice suddenly chimed in.

"Shepard?" said Delan. "Wait... I know that name." His tone was very sardonic. "Sure, I remember you. You're some type of big UNSC hero."

At this, Kaidan stepped out from behind the container, after taking those few moments to steady his breathing. Exchanging awkward glances, the others walked out after him, with Alan removing his helmet.

"Commander Kaelyn Shepard," said Kaidan, addressing Delan. "Captain of the _Normandy_. The first human Spectre. Saviour of the Citadel. You're in the presence of a legend here, Delan... and a ghost."

Alan took his helmet off to get a better look at the figures in the courtyard. There was the green-eyed Commander Shepard, with her short brown hair and even a set of black N7 armour, armed to the teeth with various guns. Flanking her were a Turian that Alan remembered to be Garrus Vakarian, now sporting a bandage and with his blue C-Sec armour badly damaged. The other figure was a Krogan, though not one like any other Krogan he had ever seen. This one looked younger, with smoother skin, blue eyes and an undeveloped head-plate, dressed head to foot in silver combat armour. Alan wondered if they had arrived at the same time as his own team, and what method they had found to evade the insect swarms. As the two groups looked at each other, Delan looked at both groups with equal contempt.

"All the good people we lost," he muttered at Kaidan, "and you get left behind. Figures." He waved a hand dismissively as he marched away. "Screw this," he grunted. "I'm done with you UNSC types."

Nobody was paying attention to Delan anymore. Kaidan's eyes never left Shepard's as the two approached each other. It was difficult to read the expressions on their faces; both were processing so many conflicting emotions. They had both been longing for this encounter, and dreading it. In the end, they finally broke the awkward moment with an embrace.

"I thought you were dead, Kaelyn," said Kaidan. "We all did." His tone was as mixed as his feelings. It was as if he wanted to be pleased, but there was also a tone of bitterness in there. As the pair broke apart, his faced remained cold.

"It's been too long, Kaidan," said Shepard, trying to appear casual in spite of herself. "How've you been?"

"Is that all you have to say?" said Kaidan bitterly. "You show up after two years and just act like nothing happened?" He then advanced on her, his tone growing angrier; clearly this was something he had wanted to get off his chest for a long time.

"I thought we had something, Shepard," he spat. "Something real. I... I loved you. Thinking you were dead tore me apart! How could you put me through that? Why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"

"I'm sorry, Kaidan," said Shepard, apologetically. "I was clinically dead. It took two years to put me back together."

"That much is true, at least," said Alan to Kaidan. "Kiryuu's got some files you might want to look at."

"So much time has passed," said Shepard, her eyes closed with regret. "You've moved on. I don't want to reopen old wounds."

"I did move on," said Kaidan. "At least I thought I did. But now we've got reports about you and Cerberus." He looked behind Shepard and threw a disappointed look at Garrus. "You too, Garrus?"

This was clearly the elephant in the room. Cerberus was the topic that everyone had apparently wanted to avoid, but Kaidan had decided to address it head-on. Alan had to admit that he wanted answers; why would Shepard work with a group like Cerberus, knowing what they were? Garrus looked puzzled at Kaidan.

"Reports?" asked Garrus. "You mean you already knew?

"UNSC intel thought that Cerberus might be behind the missing human colonies," Kaidan explained. "They got a tip this colony might be the next one to get hit. Knight and Anderson stonewalled me, but there were rumours that you weren't dead. That you were working for the enemy." He said his last line as if he was spitting out something particularly unpleasant.

"It doesn't make any sense, Shepard," said Alan coldly. "I can understand that they brought you back, but it sounds like you've stayed with them. Why?"

"Our colonies out here in Terminus are disappearing," said Shepard. "They're beyond the help of the Alliance and the Council. Cerberus is the only group in any position to do something about it."

"You can't really believe that!" spluttered Kaidan indignantly, while Alan scowled. "We all know what Cerberus is like, what they're capable of!"

"I think when Cerberus brought you back they cut off the air supply to your brain!" Alan spat. "Have you forgotten that these are the same bastards who almost killed you on Akuze, who thought making their own Spartans with Thresher Maw genes was a good idea, who murdered Lord Hood?"

"I wanted to believe the rumours that you were alive," Kaidan cut in, "but I never expected anything like this! You've turned your back on everything we believed in! You betrayed the UNSC! You betrayed me!"

"Kaidan, Alan, you know me!" Shepard retorted, looking scandalised. "You both know I'd only do this for the right reason! You saw it yourselves. The Collectors are targeting human colonies, and they're working for the Reapers!"

"I want to believe you, Shepard," said Kaidan firmly, "but I don't trust Cerberus. They could be using the threat of a Reaper to manipulate you. What if they're behind it? What if they're working with the Collectors?"

"Damn it, Kaidan," said Garrus. "You're so focused on Cerberus that you're ignoring the real threat!"

"I don't like this any more than you guys do," said Shepard, trying to sound reasonable, a tone which seemed to annoy Alan all the more. "I'd give anything to not need Cerberus' help. However, I have to look at the facts. I have no choice but to put aside their history for the time-being. I need their help if I'm to stop the Collectors and save our colonists."

"Maybe..." Alan snarled, approaching Shepard. He had come to realise that they were indeed bonded by G-cells, and now he could sense one thought at the front of Shepard's mind. It was a peculiar sensation, to be given insight into someone else's mind, however briefly; he remembered it happening with the connection between himself, Godzilla and Kiryuu. Now one thought had entered Shepard's mind, and it was one which made him feel more bitter.

"Or maybe you feel like you owe Cerberus because they saved you," he snarled. "Maybe you're the one who's not thinking straight."

Shepard opened her mouth to argue, but then seemed to think better of it, looking away from Alan. This told him everything he needed to know; Shepard couldn't deny what Alan had said, because a small part of her mind kept saying that he was right.

"You've changed," said Kaidan in a low tone. "But I still know where my loyalties lie. I'm a UNSC marine; always will be. I've got to report back to the Citadel," he continued as he turned away. "They can decide if they believe your story or not."

"I could use someone like you on my crew, Kaidan," Shepard suddenly said. "It'll be just like old times."

"No, it won't," spat Kaidan. "I'll never work for Cerberus." There was an uncomfortable pause, before Kaidan finished, "Goodbye, Shepard. Be careful." With that, he walked away from the group. Alan watched him go, before turning back to Shepard. The two of them looked at each other for a moment.

"I guess you'll have to report to Telek 'Heros," said Shepard.

"Guess I'll have to," Alan said. "He can decide whether or not it's worth tearing your ship apart."

"Alan..." said Shepard awkwardly. "I know this is hurting you all, but I've got no other choice."

"So you already said," said Alan in a low tone. "Just be careful, Shepard; whatever your reasons for this lunacy, remember that a leopard can't change its spots. Cerberus cannot be trusted."

With that, he turned around and walked away from Shepard and her team. Dorva and Nicole followed him as they made their way back through the main drag towards the _Serenity_. All around them were the remaining colonists, sobbing, fuming impotently, some of them casting hopeless expressions in their direction. All of the Collector bodies were gone, apparently destroyed. Alan felt as hopeless as many of the colonists looked; he wondered if he had been too harsh on Shepard, but he strongly felt that working with Cerberus was a horrible idea, one that would surely backfire on her sooner or later.

0

Once she was back on the _Normandy_, Shepard was called to the briefing room to speak to the Illusive Man. They never actually spoke face-to-face; instead he used some kind of holographic technology to project an image of his office around her, while a hologram of herself appeared in his room. Shepard was annoyed to see a cold smile on his face as the room faded into view. After what she had experienced, she felt as if Cerberus had now cost her two of her best allies.

"Good work on Horizon, Shepard," said the Illusive Man. "Hopefully, the Collectors will think twice before attacking another human colony." The smug look on his face made Shepard want to punch him over and over.

"It's not a victory," she said. "We interrupted them, but they still abducted half the colony."

"That's better than an entire colony," said the Illusive Man, "and more than we've accomplished since the abductions began. The Collectors will be more careful now, but I think we can find another way to lure them in."

"I wondered if you had something to do with that attack," said Shepard angrily. "Kaidan told me the UNSC got a tip about me and Cerberus."

"I released a few carefully-disguised rumours that you might be alive and working for Cerberus," said the Illusive Man. "I also arranged for the position of your crewman to be leaked onto the extranet."

"What the hell were you trying to pull?" Shepard spat.

"I suspected that the Collectors were looking for you," said the Illusive Man calmly, "or people connected to you. Now I know for certain. It was a risk, I admit that, but I couldn't just wait for them to take another colony. You understand." He was completely unrepentant in his words.

"To Hell with you!" Shepard snarled. "How dare you use Kaidan as bait! I almost lost someone I cared about just then, and I don't think anyone will trust me ever again. I'm sick of you driving wedges between me and the people I care about!"

"If any wedges are being driven between you and your friends," said the Illusive Man, "it is ones of their making. My goal is to stop the Collectors, at any cost. I've never hidden that from you. If others can't see beyond the name and aren't willing to compromise, then that is their problem, not yours. Need I remind you that out here, in the Terminus Systems, you need all the help you can get, and I'm prepared to give it to you, even if no-one else is."

Shepard gave the Illusive Man a stony stare. She resented every moment here, every minute spent working under Cerberus' banner. She hated how she had such little choice in the matter. Remaining completely unflappable, the Illusive Man brought up more holo-screens around his chair.

"I'm devoting all resources to finding a way through the Omega 4 Relay," he said. "We have to hit the Collectors where they live. Your team will need to be strong... as will their resolve. There's no going back. The same goes for you. I'm assuming you have put your past relationships behind you?"

"None of your damn business," replied Shepard coldly.

"If it affects the mission," the Illusive Man replied, "better you should leave it behind. Once you find a way through the Omega 4 Relay to the Collector home-world, there's no guarantee you'll return. To have any hope of surviving, you – and your entire team – must be fully committed to this."

"Let me worry about them," Shepard said. "You just find us a way to the Collector home-world."

"I just want to be up-front about your odds," said the Illusive Man, as he stubbed out another cigarette. "You'll need everyone at their best. I've forwarded three more dossiers. Keep building your team while I look for a way through the Relay. And be careful, Shepard; the Collectors will be watching you."

With that, the holographic images faded, and Shepard found herself back in the conference room, feeling even more resentful of the Illusive Man. As she turned around, she saw Jacob leaning against the wall. She knew Jacob was Cerberus, but through the time they had spent working together he had struck her as a genuinely decent human being. Everyone on the _Normandy_ had been decent; it seemed that she had found good people who were being taken advantage of by bad people.

"I guess we're really gonna do it," said Jacob grimly. "Hit the Omega 4 Relay, take the fight to the Collectors in person. Looking forward to the action. After seeing what those bastards did on Horizon, though... Makes you think."

"Something on your mind?" Shepard asked.

"No," said Jacob, sounding worried. "Just... There's a good chance we're not coming back, even if we get it done. Gonna go take care of a little unfinished business. I imagine everyone else is too... Getting some closure, you know?"

With that, he nodded and left the room. As Shepard looked over the new dossiers, she thought about what Jacob had said. Clearly something had been bothering him, and if the rest of the team was like that, then clearly there were matters they wished to attend to before they tried to fight the Collectors. She knew that she would have to help them resolve these issues, so that they could fight by her side with clear heads.

Still, the accusing, disappointed looks on Kaidan's and Alan's faces haunted her. She sighed deeply and held her head in one hand, propped up on the table. She was now feeling as if this working relationship with Cerberus was more trouble than it was worth.

"Hell and damnation..." she muttered.


	10. More Players in the Game

**More Players in the Game**

"_So you're saying that I can't blast Shepard's ship into dust when I see it?"_ Telek said.

Of course Alan had felt obligated to keep Telek updated. This development of Shepard working for Cerberus was too big to ignore. He had explained the situation, the events on Horizon, and how the Collectors were involved. When he had explained that it was true that Shepard was working with Cerberus to stop the Collectors, Telek had agreed with Alan that she was making an enormous mistake. To put it more accurately, he had called her every name under the sun.

"Yes, Telek," said Alan, "that's exactly what I'm saying. As catastrophic an error of judgement as it is, I'd rather not see her get blown to smithereens over it. As long as she's out there trying to stop the abductions, I'm willing to turn a blind eye... for now, at least."

"_Well, for her sake,"_ Telek grunted, _"she'd better tell the Illusive Man to go fuck himself when she's done whatever it is she needs to do, or better yet put a bullet in his fucking head and save us the trouble. You know what she's flying in so I'll know not to tell Joli to use the main gun on it when I see it?"_

"I've just been asking Anderson about that," Alan replied. He had contacted the human Councillor to get more information about Shepard, as she was bound to have contacted him at some point. Anderson had been very reluctant to share the information, but as Alan spoke he received a letter on his commlink with the details he had been asking for.

"Ah, here we are..." he said, reading the letter. "Well, this is interesting... It seems she's using a Normandy-class frigate, also called the _Normandy_. This one's got Cerberus markings on it, but I doubt you'll mistake it for any other vessel, though I have to wonder how Cerberus was able to replicate the most advanced ship in the UNSC Navy."

"_Why don't we go ask 'em?"_ Telek replied dryly. _"Seriously, if their claws are as deep into the UNSC as ya think, we should just ask around. We're bound to run into someone from Cerberus sooner or later."_

"Not helping, Telek," Alan groaned. "Just the thought that they're in so deep worries me to no end. How've they not been caught?"

"_They're roaches, son,"_ grunted Telek. _"Ya can't kill bugs like that."_

"Well, someone's gotta step on them sooner or later," muttered Alan darkly. "We're fast running out of people we can trust."

"_Hang in there, kid,"_ said Telek. _"Don't go freaking out on us now. I'm close enough to hittin' the bottle again as it is."_ Telek used to drink heavily, but had been teetotal for several years. _"Anyway, we'll keep an eye out for the Collectors. With any luck we'll do Shepard's job for her."_

It was then that Alan heard a beeping coming from his console. Someone was trying to contact him on the secure channels.

"Right, I'd better go," said Alan to Telek. "I'll keep you in the loop if anything comes up."

"_Ditto,"_ said Telek. _"Next time ya hear from me the Collectors will be dust."_ With that, Telek hung up.

"He's not lacking for confidence, that's for sure," Alistair chimed in from the pilot's seat as he steered the ship away from Horizon. Alan had to wonder if Alistair had meant to say 'arrogance', but didn't mention so out loud. Instead, he patched the caller through, taking care to begin the security measures to avoid eavesdroppers.

"_Are you there, Captain Tyler?"_ Kaidan's voice suddenly said. _"I didn't think this frequency would be any good..."_

"You reached us just fine, Kaidan," said Alan. "I'm surprised you called; I didn't think any of Shepard's lot would want to speak to us again anytime soon. Did you get off Horizon alright?"

"_Yeah, no problems here,"_ replied Kaidan._ "I was glad to get outta there; the Terminus colonists really don't want our help."_

"Even after what they've been through?" asked Alan in disbelief. "What do they think is happening? That they're going on holiday?"

"_Too much bad blood, I guess,"_ said Kaidan wearily. There was a pause for a few moments, and Alan wondered why Kaidan had called him at all; surely he hadn't done so just to gripe about the Terminus colonies?

"What's bothering you?" Alan asked. "I saw how you looked after what happened on Horizon. Anything you need to get off your chest?" Kaidan gave a deep sigh before speaking again.

"_Maybe I was too harsh on her..."_ he said.

"On Shepard?" Alan said. "I doubt anything anybody could say could reduce her to tears. In any case, it had to be said. She's a bloody fool for working with Cerberus, and that's a fact."

"_I know,"_ said Kaidan. _"I stand by what I said to her, but... I don't know. I can't help thinking that I went too far. I want to believe that she's the same woman I fell in love with, but..."_

"Who knows what those butchers in Cerberus did to her..." Alan muttered darkly. He shared many of Kaidan's doubts, and he wondered if Cerberus had done something to her during the Lazarus Project, something that made her more susceptible to their commands. He didn't want to believe it, but he wouldn't put anything past the Illusive Man.

"Have you got in touch with Kiryuu yet?" he asked. "I know you're doing some kind of work for him."

"_I thought he'd tell you sooner or later,"_ said Kaidan, almost disapprovingly. _"I was just about to give my report on Horizon. I wish I had something better to tell him than 'I almost became bug food'."_

"Ask him about the Lazarus Project while you're at it," said Alan. "Kiryuu probably has new info on it that he can share." When Kaidan was silent he added, "Look, if it really bothers you that much, write her a letter or something."

"A... letter?" Kaidan asked.

"Pen," Alan said in a rather droll manner. "Paper. Old tech. Failing that, drop her a line through the extranet. I doubt she's so far gone that she'll turn away a note from a... well, a friend."

There was silence for a moment, as Kaidan apparently considered the idea. Alan thought of doing so himself, but he had the feeling that doing so would open his channels up to Cerberus infiltration. He wondered if the same thought had occurred to Kaidan.

"_Alright,"_ said Kaidan finally. _"I doubt it'll be worth the risk, but I'll give it a shot. I don't want there to be bad blood between us."_

"If you think it'll help, do it," said Alan. "I still say she's an idiot for working with Cerberus, but I get the feeling she knows that."

"_Well,"_ said Kaidan, _"all I've got left to say is to properly thank you for helping me back there. If you hadn't shown up, I hate to think what would have happened."_

"Let's not dwell on that," said Alan quickly. "Good luck out there, whatever it is Kiryuu's got you doing."

"_Thanks,"_ said Kaidan, sounding a shade braver. _"You too, Captain."_ With that, he signed off.

"I never thought I'd see you having to play 'matchmaker', Captain," said Alistair with a sly grin.

"I'm not entirely unfamiliar with love," said Alan, shaking his head in disbelief, "and all the baggage that comes with it. It isn't as rosy as the chick-flicks make it out to be, believe-you-me."

"I'm not saying it is," said Alistair defensively. "It just reminded me of my mate, that's all... I just wish she'd lived to see this."

Now Alan felt awkward. It occurred to him that he didn't know much about Alistair's past; it wasn't something he often talked about. The most he knew was that he'd been involved in some kind of incident in London, and had done work for Saeder-Krupp, which was how he had come to be drafted into Alan's crew. Anything other than that was a complete mystery.

"I didn't even know you'd had a... well, a lover," said Alan, thinking that the term 'mate' was too impersonal.

"It was ages back," said Alistair. "I lost her during the Rage Incident. Really sweet lass, but very quiet. You know, Gillian kinda reminds me of her, aside from her being a different species altogether..."

At this Alan's expression became one of utter incredulity. "Jesus, man!" he exclaimed. "She's only a kid!"

"Get your mind outta that gutter," Alistair snapped. "I don't think of her like that. I'm just thinking that she needs a... well, a family."

"She needs a lot of help, that's a fact," sighed Alan. "Just let her go at her own pace; she might open up, she might not. Keep a close eye on her though; if she's as strong a Technomancer as Hendel claims, I can't help but think of her as a time-bomb."

"I'll do that," said Alistair. "Not too close though; I'm not giving you any ideas for more perverted jokes."

0

Haestrom was the third planet located in the Dholen System, deep in the Far Rim. The planet was once home to a Quarian colony, which was set up to monitor the unusual instability in the parent star, which they discovered was decaying at an accelerated rate. Such an outpost was ill-prepared when the Geth invaded centuries ago, and the site had been abandoned for that long. Now, for the second time, it had seen conflict. A Quarian science team had recently tried to start surveying Dholen once again from Haestrom, and the Geth had gone in to drive them out. Of the team that had entered the site, only two had lived to tell the tale.

Tali'Zorah vas Neema, as she was now known as a highly-respected crewmember on the _Neema_, could not help but feel that the mission had been a complete waste of time. Whatever this data was that the Admiralty Board wanted, it could not have been worth the price her team had paid for it. Their people were simply not front-line fighters; her friend Kal'Reegar had been saying this for years. She was sure that he would have fallen too had her friend Shepard not shown up. She had not been surprised to see her, nor was she surprised that she was now working with Cerberus, after seeing her on Freedom's Progress with two Cerberus operatives in tow. She was just glad that Shepard still seemed to be the one giving the orders in the little party; if Cerberus had got their way, no doubt the traumatised Veetor would have had the extra indignity of a Cerberus interrogation.

She had to admit that she had been surprised that she was now being asked to join Shepard's mission to fight the Collectors. As far as she knew, Cerberus never accepted non-humans for any reason, and she had to admit that she was disconcerted at the thought of having anything to do with those butchers. She had agreed to come along, but for Shepard's sake, not theirs. If the Admiralty Board needed her, it would just have to wait; anything Shepard was involved in had to take priority, especially knowing what she knew about the battle against Sovereign two years ago. She only wished this mission didn't involve Cerberus.

The sun's radiation was having an adverse effect on the environment on the planet, so she kept to the shade of one of the buildings as she bid farewell to Kal'Reegar, the only other survivor of the unit. She was glad that Shepard had been able to save him, though apparently it had involved a lot of shouting and dissuading Kal from making a suicide run.

"Seriously, what were you thinking, Reegar?" she said in a chastising tone. "You can barely stand!"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time, ma'am," Kal shrugged, clutching an opening on his environment suit. "Hoped to take down a few Geth before they tore more chunks outta my suit."

"You really are a complete bone-head..." Tali said despairingly. She knew that Kal wasn't stupid, so it irritated her to think that he had even considered the notion of a 'death or glory' run. She held his gloved hand gently. "Just make sure the Admiralty Board gets that data. Make sure something good can come from this."

"I'm just good at shootin' things, ma'am," Kal chuckled. "I'll do my best, though. You just watch yer own ass around Cerberus, and if your Commander doesn't bring you home safe she'll have me to answer to."

"I appreciate the thought, Reegar," Tali chuckled, in spite of herself. "You've seen what Shepard can do. I'm in good hands, trust me."

"All the same, ma'am," said Kal, "you get back to the Flotilla in one piece, ya hear me? Keelah selai."

"Keelah selai," said Tali quietly. With one last look at Kal, she headed towards the Cerberus shuttle that would take her to the _Normandy_ alongside Shepard, Jacob and Miranda. Once she was on board and sat down beside Shepard, the shuttle took off to rendezvous with the ship waiting in orbit. As she sat there, she did her best to avoid the eyes of Shepard's companions; they were under Shepard's command, but they were still Cerberus stooges, as far as she was concerned.

"Cerberus saw footage of you in action, Tali'Zorah," said Jacob, in a friendly tone. "We're looking forward to having you on the team. Your engineering expertise will really benefit the mission."

"I don't know who you are," said Tali coldly, "but Cerberus threatened the security of the Migrant Fleet. Don't make nice."

"That's why I'm glad you're here, Tali," Shepard cut in. "I need people I can trust watching my back."

"I heard about what happened," said Jacob apologetically. "For what it's worth, I wasn't part of Cerberus when they attacked the Migrant Fleet."

"I assumed you were undercover, Shepard," said Tali, rounding on her. "Maybe planning to blow Cerberus up. If that's the case I'll loan you a grenade. Otherwise, I'm here for you, not for them."

"If it helps," said Shepard, "check out the _Normandy_ while you're there. We've gotten a few upgrades."

"I'll get Tali'Zorah the necessary security clearance to access our systems," Jacob chimed in.

"Please do," Tali replied standoffishly to Jacob. "I can't be part of your team if I don't know how the ship works."

"Don't forget to introduce yourself to EDI," said Jacob, "the ship's new artificial intelligence."

At this Tali froze, glaring at Jacob with her arms folded. Her pearl-like eyes were visible through her visor, and they narrowed coldly. Jacob looked distinctly uncomfortable, while Miranda smirked at him.

"Smooth, Jacob," she said in a wry manner. "Very smooth."

"I just..." Jacob said. "Well, I though that, since she's worked with President Knight before..."

"I have," said Tali frostily, "and I made my stance on AIs clear to him. If he or this EDI so much as give me a dirty look I'll flash their AI Cores."

"Sorry, Tali," said Jacob quickly, his skin starting to turn from dark to red. "I didn't think..."

"No," said Tali flatly. "You didn't."

Miranda made an odd snorting noise, as if she was trying not to laugh. The rest of the journey passed in uncomfortable silence, and soon everyone was stepping out of the shuttle and into the _Normandy_'s cargo bay. Jacob and Miranda went ahead, but Tali approached Shepard and the two of them hung back.

"Remember, Shepard," she said in a low tone. "These people thought enslaving Thorian creepers and Rachni was a good idea. I'll be in engineering."

With that, Tali walked away rather stiffly. Looking back to her old friend, she saw that Shepard had an awkward look on her face. Clearly they were words she had heard already, but Tali felt that they were words worth repeating.

0

Thane Krios had never felt so alive. For most of his existence in this cold universe he had been directed by one means or another. Raised as an assassin by the Hanar from an early age, his mind had slept while his body acted as it would. He had made his first kill when he was just twelve years old. Such a concept would be inconceivable for anyone who wasn't a Drell like himself, but he had made very few decisions of his own accord. His marriage, and his response to his wife's death, were the only things he had done of his own accord, the only times his emotions had affected his actions. The assassinations he had carried out were all the same; perhaps his mind was still asleep even now.

However, this time, things were different. This hit had now become a race. Someone was pushing him to beat them to the target. He felt a thrill about this job which he thought he would not again. He did his best to keep this emotion buried, however, while he concentrated on the job.

The mark was Nassana Dantius, a former diplomatic emissary on the Citadel. The Asari was completely ruthless, killing anyone who stood in her way. According to rumours she had gone so far as to once hire Commander Shepard herself to kill her sister, the notorious slaver Dahlia Dantius. She was also highly paranoid, with a huge security force formed by Eclipse mercenaries under her command. She clearly believed somebody was coming to kill her; he found irony in the fact that, this time, she was right. However, her efforts were being focused on the wrong person, and she had even gone so far as to kill several of her employees. Thane had saved the ones he could, but he was not quick enough, and he already felt the guilt begin to gnaw at him.

He had watched Shepard's team ever since they had arrived. It seemed that, rather than going after Nassana, they were looking for him. He wanted to see what they were up to, and their presence also formed a useful distraction, reducing the number of mercenaries he had to face himself. Now the coast was clear, and he crouched in the vents above Nassana's office, at the very top of the Dantius Towers in Nos Astra, on the planet Illium, as Shepard and her team stormed in.

"Shepard?" he heard Nassana say. "But... you're dead."

"I got better," Shepard retorted in a surprisingly casual tone. He had to admit that the human sense of humour sometimes eluded him.

"And now you're here to kill me," said Nassana.

"Maybe I just missed you," said Shepard in a snarky tone.

"Screw you, Shepard," Nassana spat.

"Charming as ever," retorted Shepard.

"I'm sure you find this all very ironic," said Nassana. "First you take care of my sister, and now you're here for me. Well, you made it this far. Now what?"

"You really think I'm here to kill you?" asked Shepard with barely-disguised disdain.

"Do you have another reason for destroying my tower?" asked Nassana. "Decimating my security?"

"I'm just looking for someone," said Shepard. Clearly the human had no interest in Nassana at all. It was Thane she wanted. This got him very curious now; an emotion he had not felt for a long time.

"You expect me to believe that?" Nassana spat, her tone angry. "Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price. We can make this problem go away."

Thane moved his position towards the rear of the office, trying to get behind Nassana. There was a pause in the room, and he wondered if someone had heard him moving about.

"All the credits in the world won't make this problem go away, Nassana," said Shepard.

"Who the hell gave you the right to play god?" snarled Nassana. "I may not be perfect, but look at you. We both kill people for money. What's the difference?"

"You kill people because you think they're beneath you; they're in your way," said Shepard in disgust. "I kill people when they leave me no choice."

"You've got a choice," said Nassana, as Thane carefully moved aside a vent cover. "You don't have to do this. I can tell you..." She paused, and Thane froze, wondering if she had heard him. "What?" she suddenly said irritably.

"I heard something," a female voice said. Now that he had a better view, Thane could see three Eclipse soldiers stood behind Nassana herself; two human males and an Asari. They would be easy enough to take down, but he would have to be fast.

"Damn it," Nassana snarled, beating a fist on her desk. "Check the other entrances!" she ordered. "You... stay put," she added threateningly to Shepard.

This was it. Thane took this distraction and disarray as his cue to strike. He dropped down from the vent, landing quietly behind the first merc and snapping his neck. His companion turned and saw him, but Thane quickly struck him in the neck, crushing his windpipe and bringing him down for the count. While all this was going on, Nassana was still ranting at Shepard.

"When I'm finished dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to..." she was saying, until finally she became alerted that something was wrong when Thane shot the Asari merc. Before she even had time to think, Thane was grasping her tightly, pulling her in close, and pointing his pistol right at her abdomen. The shot was muffled by the close proximity, the bullet going right through her body and out, making holes in her beautiful red dress. Nassana's expression was frozen in shock as she gasped out her last breaths. Thane gently placed her body on the large desk, placing her arms on her chest.

The deed was done. Nassana Dantius was no more. Thane barely paid attention to Shepard and her two companions, as he closed his large, dark eyes and held his hands up in prayer.

"Impressive," Shepard's Turian companion said. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

"I came a long way to talk to you," said Shepard.

"One moment," said Thane, in his deep, rather raspy voice. "Prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."

"Do you really think she deserves it?" asked Shepard coldly. Thane was silent for a moment before he opened his eyes again, and raised his face to look Shepard in the eye.

"Not for her," he said. "For me." He walked away from Nassana's lifeless form and approached the trio of invaders. Shepard certainly kept unusual company; a Turian wearing a C-Sec uniform and a bald human woman whose body was covered in strange markings. Both of them had weapons drawn.

"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone," he continued, addressing Shepard. "Take you, for instance. All this destruction, this chaos. I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me. Well... here I am."

"How'd you know I was coming at all?" asked Shepard.

"I didn't," replied Thane. "Not until you marched in the front door and started shooting. Nassana had become paranoid. You saw the strength of her guard force. She believed one of her sisters would kill her. You were a valuable distraction."

"You used me," said Shepard angrily. "So you could kill her!"

"I needed a diversion," said Thane simply. "You needed to speak with me. You certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain." There was a moment of silence, then Shepard nodded her head, indicating to her team-mates to stand down. "What would you like to discuss?" Thane then asked.

"Someone's been abducting entire human colonies," said Shepard. "We're going to stop them. We already know the culprits – a race called the Collectors."

"I've heard of them," said Thane. "Attacking the Collectors would require going through the Omega 4 Relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

"They told me it was impossible to get to Ilos, too," Shepard retorted.

"A fair point," said Thane. "You've built a career on performing the impossible." He was certainly curious about this job, and Shepard had made a good case. If he was to take it on, he knew that he had to be honest with her, and find out if the truth would affect his suitability for the mission.

"This was to be my last job," he said, staring out of the window as the sun set behind the tall gleaming skyscrapers. "I'm dying. Low survival odds don't concern me. The abduction of your colonists does."

"I hadn't heard that," said Shepard, surprised. Clearly this was something she didn't know. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Giving me this opportunity is enough," replied Thane. Even now he could feel his body decaying slowly; Kepler's Syndrome was a horrible condition to have, according to accounts from other Drell unfortunate enough to have it.

"The universe is a dark place," he continued. "I'm trying to make it brighter before I die. Many innocents died today. I wasn't fast enough, and they suffered. I must atone for that." With that, he turned back to Shepard. "I will work for you, Shepard. No charge."

The Drell shook hands with the human. Already it was clear to Thane that this mission would take him above and beyond any of his assignments. From recent diagnosis he had less than a year left, but it looked like he would not have to wait that long to make a genuine difference in the galaxy. He was looking forward to this assignment with great interest.

0

Samara sat in the police station at the Nos Astra spaceport, meditating and reflecting on the events that had led her to this point. She was in an awkward position; in pursuit of her prey, she had been taken into custody by the well-meaning police officers. This, however, greatly intruded on her mission. If she was held for longer than a day, then she would be compelled by the Code to escape, possibly killing innocent people in the process. She did not want that, but as the hours passed it was looking more inevitable.

She had no choice in the matter. As a Justicar, there was only the Code.

The old Asari had spent the time in custody reflecting on her misspent Maiden years. Like any other Asari Maiden it was a time of great excitement and adventure for her. She had done things that made her sick to think about them now; run with pirates and mercenary gangs, even inadvertently being a slaver for a very short amount of time. She had hoped to find peace when she had raised a family, but disaster had struck again. Now, in her Matriarch years, she was a Justicar, one of an ancient monastic order of what she supposed humans would call 'knights-errant', roaming Asari space to destroy injustice wherever it may lurk. This made her both greatly respected – and greatly feared – by the rest of her kind.

She didn't care how others perceived her. She didn't pretend that the Code existed to give her enlightenment. She had memorised every single one of the five-thousand sutras, and she knew that following her made her just. Due to the rigid nature of the Code, curiosity was a luxury which she considered a liability that complicated matters too much. All that mattered was the Code; it was the centre of every Justicar's life. If others perceived her as a fundamentalist, then so be it; if they had done nothing against the Code, they had nothing to fear. She had given up everything in the name of it, including her own family.

Thankfully there were no ambiguities with her current target. The pursuit had lasted centuries. She had tracked them all the way to Illium, making her presence outside Asari space highly unusual, only to find that they had left the planet shortly before her arrival. She needed the name of the ship that they had left on, but no-one was willing to give it to her. She had killed those who refused to co-operate, after giving them plenty of chances to do so, and now was in police custody. Thankfully there was a human who wanted Samara herself for a mission, apparently a highly dangerous one. Samara had agreed to do so on the condition that this human help her with her own investigation. Now, after hours of meditation, she wondered if she had made a mistake putting others in a position where they had to share her burden.

As she opened her eyes and re-adjusted herself to the physical realm, she was surprised to see the human known as Shepard in front of her, along with her Krogan and Quarian companions. Shepard was holding a set of datapads, one of which she gave to Samara.

"I got the name of your ship," said Shepard. "Your fugitive left here two days ago on the AML Demeter."

"Shepard, you impress me," said Samara, though her tone remained cold. She was not used to speaking to others and was somewhat rusty at it. "You fulfilled your part of the bargain, and I will fulfil mine." Standing herself up from her meditative position, she turned to Anaya, the Asari detective who had been forced to take her into custody. Samara had to admit that she did not envy the detective's position in all of this.

"I am ready to leave immediately," she said, "if that will satisfy your superiors, Detective?"

"You're free to go, Justicar," said Anaya warily. "It's been an honour having you in my station. And it's nice you didn't kill me too."

"The Eclipse smuggled an Ardat-Yakshi off-world," said Shepard. "She's who you're really after, isn't she?"

"You continue to impress," replied Samara emotionlessly. "Yes, I was tracking the Ardat-Yakshi. She is a dangerous criminal, and I will bring her to justice. After your mission is complete, of course."

"The _Normandy_ is docked near the main trading floor," said Shepard, apparently satisfied for the time-being. "I'll see you on board."

"I must be sworn to your service," said Samara gravely, "so that I am never forced to choose between your orders and the Code."

Shepard looked puzzled for a moment, not realising that Samara was about to take one of the biggest oaths a Justicar can make. The Asari tapped into her biotic powers, her eyes glowing with a shining white light and blue waves of energy leaping off her body. She kneeled before Shepard, her head hung low in utter servitude.

"By the Code," she said solemnly, "I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices; your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my Code."

This was the Third Oath of Subsumation, one of the most solemn vows it was possible for her to make. Until she was released, she was now bound to Shepard, committed to the mission. The waves of energy dissipated as she stood back up, her eyes returning to their natural, piercing blue colour.

"I never thought I'd see a Justicar swear an oath like that," Anaya breathed, impressed.

"If you make me do anything extremely dishonourable," Samara then said firmly, "I may need to kill you when I am released from my oath." She noticed that Shepard was completely unfazed by this; it seemed that this woman had nothing to fear from such a statement. Either she was a good liar, or this said a lot about her honourable character.

"I can see that this is a very important act, Samara," said Shepard sincerely. "Thank you."

"Truly," said Samara, "the life of a Justicar can get lonely. I admit, I am looking forward to serving with a company of honourable heroes. Shall we return to your ship?"

"I need to speak with the detective," Shepard said, before turning to Anaya and readying the rest of the datapads that she had gathered. The detective, who had looked very grim and serious throughout the whole affair, now looked considerably more relaxed.

"Thanks for getting Samara out of my district," she said. "I can tell my granddaughters about meeting a Justicar. And you've just upped my chances of living long enough to have grandkids."

As the discussion advanced, Shepard brought forth evidence that Eclipse had killed the volus merchant Dakni Kur, and that his colleague Pitne For was a red sand smuggler. Samara vouched for all the evidence that Shepard brought forward, but she knew that she would have acted differently had she come across the killer, Elnora. Shepard had let her go, not knowing that she was a killer, but Samara knew that she would have killed her anyway for even getting involved a group such as Eclipse.

Nonetheless, Samara's first impressions of Shepard were very positive. It looked like she was truly an honourable soldier, one that she would be proud to serve under. Still, it was early days, and there was still a chance that the human would do something against the Code. When that happened, she would have to dispense justice when she was released from her oath. It didn't matter if they stopped the Collectors; if Shepard forced her to dishonour the Code, she would face the full might of a Justicar's wrath.


	11. A Link to the Past

**A Link to the Past**

Four days after the mission to Horizon, Alan found himself getting more and more frustrated. The Collectors managed to abduct the inhabitants of another colony – New Canton – and no-one seemed able to stop or catch up to them. It was as if they were mirages; always seen, but always remaining intangible. It frustrated Alan in-particular as he now knew that they could be fought and beaten, but it seemed to be becoming clearer to him that they were extremely lucky to even find out that much; if Kaidan's position hadn't been leaked, he doubted they would have faced the Collectors at all. Still, after their encounter he wondered if they were truly ready to face the Collectors in a straight fight. The problem wasn't even really their numbers; they seemed to lack intelligence and self-preservation instincts in spite of their marksmanship. He was more concerned about those swarms of insect robots; if Kaidan hadn't used his Technomancy to protect them, they would definitely have been captured. There had to be a way to protect themselves in case they encountered the Collectors again, and they had to find it fast.

Another problem that he had was Gillian. She didn't cause trouble for the group, and in fact hardly spoke a word to them at all. However, she had a habit of turning up in the strangest places; in the engine room, in the galley store-cupboard, and once Alan even caught her in the maintenance ducts. Whenever Alan demanded to know what she thought she was doing, she would blankly reply that she was "exploring". Alan had the feeling that she was looking for places to hide should Cerberus show up.

Mostly Gillian kept to herself, not speaking to anybody and not even coming to the table for meals. She also never took off her environment suit. Mostly the crew had given up trying to socialise with her, as she was rather unreceptive to any attempts to talk to her. The only one who hadn't given up was Alistair, who made it a point to drop off some food at her cabin at every mealtime. She was unresponsive to his attempts to make small-talk, but when he went back to her cabin an hour later he found an empty tray waiting for him outside the door. At least they knew that she was not starving herself.

On the fourth day, Nicole decided to try talking to Gillian again. Knocking on the cabin door, but finding no answer, the Spartan stepped into the cabin. It wasn't as large or well-furnished as the crew cabins were, with just a bed, a small side-table and a sink. Gillian herself was sat as stiff as a statue on the bed, the only indication that she was aware of Nicole's presence being the fact that she was looking in the Spartan's direction. She was still dressed in her environment suit; Nicole didn't recall ever seeing her take it off.

"Hey, kid," she said in a friendly tone, walking over to the bed and carefully putting a bundle of clothes on the end. The clothes were a mixed bunch, including several pairs of trousers and shirts, but also one or two rather pretty summer dresses.

"Malcho insists on buying me these things," Nicole chuckled, thinking of her mentor. "I've got so many now, I figure you'd make better use of them than me, get you out of that suit for a while. Some of them might be a bit too big, but I can trim 'em down to your size if you need me to."

To Nicole's disappointment, Gillian didn't respond for a while. Instead, she looked blankly between the clothes, Nicole, and her own environment suit. Nicole thought for a moment that she thought she could see the gears moving inside the girl's head. Finally, she replied "Thank you, but I prefer to wear this," in the same flat monotone that she always used when speaking.

"Ah, come on, kid," Nicole said pleadingly. "Surely you don't wanna spend the rest of your life in that stuffy old suit? Does it even get washed?"

"I prefer to wear this," said Gillian again. If Nicole didn't know better, she could have sworn that she heard the faintest sign of irritation in Gillian's voice. She shrugged and moved back towards the door.

"Well, I tried," she said wearily. "I'll leave those clothes there in case you change your mind. Maybe talk later?"

Sighing, she stepped out of Gillian's cabin and headed back upstairs to the galley, where she fixed herself a drink. Gillian's silence reminded her too much of herself when she was her age; quiet and reluctant to speak. She wondered if Gillian had ever gone through a similar trauma to what she did, and she knew that what she needed more than anything was someone she could rely on. After all, if Malcho hadn't been there for Nicole she was sure that things would have turned out very differently. She wondered if she could have turned out to be an emotionless robot, as detractors of the Spartan program often called the super-soldiers.

The drink was a rather bitter alcoholic blend by the Salarians. The crew had purchased it as something new to try, but had gone untouched until now, and after one sip of the stuff Nicole wasn't sure if she would be touching it again. She idly carried it as she walked up to the bridge, where she found Alan hunched over the pilot's console while Alistair manoeuvred the ship through the stars.

"What's up?" she asked idly.

"Got ourselves something really interesting on the short-range frequencies," replied Alan. "Right now we're in the Rosetta Nebula, and we just picked up a snatch of a transmission from the Enoch system. Here, have a listen..." He pressed some buttons on the console, bringing up a recording of a radio transmission.

"_Bastards didn't know what hit 'em,"_ a voice full of malicious glee said. _"Coming around for a second patrol. Looking for survivors."_

"Now that doesn't sound good," said Nicole, her expression going dark. "Any idea who's talking?"

"We think it's the Blue Suns," said Alistair. "I've been hearing a lot of reports on the extranet about their activities in this area. The transmission came from the third planet, Joab. That set off the alarm bells as, from what I've been reading, there was an excavation team there at some time. They must have found something big if the Suns are after 'em."

"I'm impressed," said Nicole, smiling. "You keep a lot of news in your head."

"I figure it helps us in our line of work as space vigilantes," smirked Alistair. "It's like listening in on a police bandwidth."

"You make us sound like the galaxy's Justice League," Alan snorted, shaking his head. "It's not as glamorous as that."

"At least we don't have to wear tights," chuckled Alistair. "Anyway, I'm setting a course for Joab now. Let's see what's going on down there."

"Right," nodded Alan. "Nicole, we'll get Dorva and get tooled up. The Suns won't exactly roll out the red carpet for us."

"Does anyone?" asked Nicole with a wry smile, her arms folded. She and Alan walked down the passageway where the crew cabins were located, with Alan stopping by the intercom outside Dorva's cabin. The hatches to the cabins opened in an odd fashion, as the cabins were actually on a lower level; a hatch pushed into the wall and formed a stepladder down into the cabin itself.

"Dorva," Alan called, "get your arse up here and meet us in the cargo bay. We're gonna make landfall soon."

"_Yes, Shipmaster,"_ came Dorva's reply. Moments later all three were changing into their combat armour, the ship shaking around them as it entered Joab's atmosphere. Alan didn't like it when the ship had to make atmospheric entry; so many things shook and rattled that he was surprised nothing was breaking off. _Serenity_ was now showing her age, though he never liked to admit it.

Joab was a small garden world with a breathable atmosphere, and the signal was coming from the bottom of a small rocky ravine. There was barely enough room for _Serenity_ to fit into as the ship descended to the bottom, sending dust everywhere as the rotating jets impacted against the landing pad. As soon as the ship touched down the airlock door opened and Alan, Nicole and Dorva stepped out, weapons at the ready. The entrance to an excavation site could be seen cut into the canyon wall, and several land vehicles could be seen some distance away. There was no sign of life, and no sign of a struggle; if the Blue Suns were here, it was clearly a very clean takeover.

"They would definitely have seen our approach," said Alan, peering around him. "Stay sharp."

Carefully crossing the canyon floor, the sun beating down on them, the trio reached the door without incident. Stepping inside, they found themselves in a dimly-lit mess area, with a high rock ceiling, a number of tables and chairs scattered about, and a ramp leading up to a doorway higher up in the rock. The trio carefully made their way across the room, constantly checking all around them and trying to cover any blind spots. Dorva crossed over to a small computer, and began to use it, the screen bringing up several documents.

"Find anything?" asked Alan.

"Yes," replied Dorva, keeping one hand gripping his plasma rifle tightly. "It seems that the archaeological team based here found something deeper inside. They hired the Blue Suns as escorts while they planned to move their findings to an off-site research station. By the looks of things, I'd guess that the Blue Suns had other ideas."

At this news, Alan rolled his eyes. "How thick can you get?" he said. "Why trust a mercenary group with something like this? Any mention of what this thing is?"

"None whatsoever," said Dorva. "Whatever it is though, it got the team very excited, and if the Blue Suns were willing to kill over it..."

All of a sudden there was a soft hissing noise as the door to the next chamber opened, and footsteps could be heard rapidly approaching. The group barely had time to dive for cover as shots rang out around them, the bullets slamming into the tables and barely missing the trio. They returned fire, cutting down one of the snipers, but there were a number of close calls before all of the assassins went down. Passing by their bodies to get to the door, Alan saw that they were wearing blue and white armour, and were a mix of humans, Batarians and Turians. These had to be the Blue Suns.

"You had to say it, Dorva..." Alan muttered as they went down a rocky passageway. "You just had to say they wanted to kill..."

Down a narrow rocky passage and around a corner, the group were ambushed by more Blue Suns. The mercenaries put up a good fight, but they had lost the element of surprise and now stood little chance against the highly-trained commandos. Many were cut down in a hail of gunfire, but some managed to get close to melee range, but Alan quickly pulled out his whip and lashed out with it, the white-hot plasma cutting through their armour and slicing them to ribbons.

At last, the last of the mercenaries fell. Exhausted, but satisfied, the group stepped over their bodies into a small cave just beyond them. It was the last chamber in the site; a high-ceilinged rocky cave which was dimly-lit by only a few floodlights. Most of the space in the cave was taken up by what looked like a large silver metal sculpture, composed of three thin columns of varying heights, the highest being around twenty feet tall. A small holographic display at the bottom of the sculpture was displaying various circular shapes, and the column itself had a dim blue glow. Alan lowered his weapon and walked towards it, peering at it intently.

"I guess we now know what the Blue Suns were after," he said.

"What is it?" asked Nicole, as she holstered her rifle. Dorva did the same, looking at the sculpture with great puzzlement.

"I have no idea," said Alan, shaking his head. He looked at the small screen, paying particular attention to the circular symbols. He suddenly remembered where he had seen them before. "This is definitely the Forerunner language, though. I remember Kiryuu showed me some of their alphabet once."

"Then I could see why the Blue Suns would want it," said Dorva. "Forerunner artefacts fetch a high price on the black market. Until a few years ago they were called Prothean artefacts, though as we now know the Protheans were a separate species altogether."

"I still can't believe the galaxy got it so wrong for so long," sighed Nicole, shaking her head. "In any case, we'd better report this to Kiryuu."

"Agreed," said Alan, nodding his head. "Nobody touch this until we know exactly what we're dealing with. Nicole, if you could-"

"Shh!" Dorva suddenly hissed, holding a finger up to his mandibles and raising his rifle. As Alan fell silent, he now heard what had caused Dorva to go on the alert. Faint footsteps could be heard coming from outside the chamber, approaching them slowly. Alan and Nicole raised their weapons, all three facing the door, their hearts beating faster as the sound of footsteps came closer.

0

_Earlier..._

Gillian Grayson sat in her cabin, curled up on the bed, not looking at anything in-particular. The pile of clothes on the end of the bed had gone untouched. She was thinking about the circumstances that had led her to this point. She wanted to be back with the Migrant Fleet; at least there she knew Hendel and most of the Quarians. Here she knew no-one. She began to think about Grissom Academy, and the people she had left behind. Nick, Kahlee Sanders, even her own father... All of them were far away now, where they couldn't help her.

Her father had explained very carefully that she had to separate from him to keep both of them safe from bad people who wanted to hurt them, and for a while she had been able to get on with her new life. Now it had been over two years, and she missed her father dreadfully. She felt that she had to find him. If he was in danger, she had to be there to help him. Her mind had screamed in protest at the idea of going to find him; she knew the Flotilla and was safe there, but something about this ship, the _Serenity_, had calmed her, reassured her that wherever she went on this ship she would be alright. Still, she could not get used to the crew. They were not bad people; she just did not feel that she could connect with them.

Now the ship had landed. If she didn't feel the harsh bump that came with the landing, she would have taken the silence of the engines to be a very bad sign. Silence on the Flotilla usually meant something had broken, and for one moment she had almost run up to the engine room to check on the drive core. She had picked up a lot of new habits in the two years she had lived among the Quarians, and now that she was with the _Serenity_ crew, she felt as if she would have to pick up some new ones.

The minute that had followed the landing was when she started hearing the whispers. They were very faint, and she could not tell what they were saying, but she was sure that she was hearing voices that weren't there before. At first she wondered if the other crew members were just having a conversation and she couldn't hear it properly. She decided to take off the helmet of her environment suit and try to listen without it getting in the way, to be properly sure.

There was a soft hissing noise as she peeled the helmet away from her head. Long and unkempt black hair tumbled out as she placed the helmet on a side table. Taking a quick glance of herself in the small mirror above the sink, she realised that this was the first time in two years she had seen her face. She couldn't take her helmet off on the Flotilla even if she wanted to, due to the risk of infection spreading. She looked older than she was, her dark brown eyes peering out of a young face that was pale due to such limited exposure to sunlight for the past two years. She had gotten so used to seeing just the reflective screen of the helmet that seeing herself like this was quite a shock.

Yet, in spite of her ears now being clear, she could not hear any of the voices of the crew. She still heard the soft whispers, niggling in the back of her mind. It was then that she felt a strange impulse to reach towards the back of her head, and pull out the Technomantic cords that she had not used in a long time. She remembered using them a few times at Grissom Academy, where the teachers tried to help her use this ability properly. She couldn't recall exactly where she first learned how to use it, but that didn't seem to matter now. A few times her emotions had gotten the better of her; she had once thrown a boy across the dining hall with her cords because he had touched her and teased her, and prior to joining the Flotilla she had used them to reduce a group of Cerberus soldiers to a pile of atoms and a bloody smear, said smear being caused by her dropping a forklift on top of them. By and large, however, she had never needed them.

Now, however, she felt as if she needed them more than ever. She could not explain where this feeling had come from, but at this very moment it made the most sense to pull out her cords. So she did so, allowing the ghostly glowing cyan threads to drape onto her arms. She looked at them curiously for a moment. As she had not used them for such a long time, seeing them now was like a brand new experience for her.

All of a sudden the cords moved by themselves, stretching out and touching the floor and walls. This didn't bother Gillian so much; after all, it wasn't the first time they had moved of their own accord. She looked down at them, and noticed that they seemed to be branching towards the door of her cabin. It was almost like they were pointing somewhere and wanted her to follow them. Her mind began to scream in protest at this; she had become familiar with the _Serenity_ over the past few days. She understood now that it was familiar, that it was safe. In her cabin, everything was as it should be, in spite of the unwanted arrival of the new clothes. In spite of this, she felt an inexplicable feeling that, whatever was outside, then going out to see it was not just advisable; it was necessary.

Trying to shut out the screaming protests of her own mind, she followed the glowing cords and slid the cabin door open, walking out into the comfortable-looking common room. She didn't bother to look at the comfortable chairs, the coffee table or the Shufflepuck table, nor did she pay much attention to the box-like infirmary on her right as he strode towards the door to the cargo bay. No-one was around, and Gillian preferred it that way. It meant that she would not have to answer any awkward questions from these unfamiliar people.

She was about halfway across the cargo bay when she suddenly stopped. She could hear someone else walking along one of the upper gantries. She stood there frozen, wondering what she should do should someone approach her. It was then that she heard the voice again, only this time not as a whisper, but now loud enough to drown out even the screams of protest in her head:

"_**Don't waste too much time on the goons,"**_ said the much stronger female voice in her head. _**"Their lives are not to end today, but try and keep them out of your way. Knock them out."**_

The airlock door was closed, but the ramp outside was still lowered. One of her cords shot out towards the control panel by the door, where it immediately began to do its work. Gillian didn't have to know how the control panel worked; somehow she just knew that the cords would do the work she needed them to do. It was as the doors slowly began to open that a voice above her said "What the-?"

Without even turning to look where the voice was coming from, her cords shot out and grabbed the interloper, slamming him against the ceiling of the cargo bay. They then proceeded to slam him down into the gantry, and there was a grunt as the figure was knocked out. Turning briefly to look in his direction, Gillian saw that the figure she had knocked out was the gargoyle, Alistair. Of all the people on this ship, he made her the least comfortable. There was something about him, like some fundamental part of him had been damaged beyond repair that she couldn't put her finger on, and it made her scared of him. Alistair groaned, not having the strength to move, as she walked towards the open airlock, feeling the breeze from the planet touching her exposed skin. It had been a while since she had felt the wind on her face, and it felt strangely good.

"Gillian?" a female voice suddenly called out from behind her. She assumed that the voice belonged to the woman known as Call, as she never usually went outside the ship. However, Gillian paid her no attention, and strode out beyond the airlock door. Her cords wound towards the control panel, and with a loud hiss the doors began to close.

"Gillian, no!" Call shouted, and the sound of running footsteps could be heard. Gillian just continued to walk outside, her cords swinging out and attaching to the ground again, crawling towards the cave entrance as the airlock door slammed shut. She was sure that the _Serenity_ crew would try to open the door, but her cords had removed a key part from inside the control panel. It could be fixed, but it would take them time to do so, more than enough for her to do what she felt this impulse to do. She crossed the floor of the chasm and went into the cave, without even stopping for a moment to enjoy the warmth of the sun on her face.

"_**Don't worry,"**_ said the voice in a soft tone. _**"Don't be afraid. Trust me, there is something here that will help you and your new... acquaintances."**_

Gillian's mind again began to scream in protest, even as her body moved across the mess area, stepping over the bodies of the fallen mercenaries, her cords feeling their way around every surface. She didn't know who this voice belonged to, for one thing, and she didn't like being out in places she was unfamiliar with.

"_**I've known you longer than you have known me,"**_ said the voice, as if it was picking up on her doubts. _**"But formal introductions must wait for a more appropriate time. Just know that I am on your side. But we don't have time to argue over it. You have to trust me. I won't steer you wrong."**_

Gillian wasn't sure if she should trust something that didn't even have a name. However, it didn't look as if she had any choice in the matter right now, so she decided to carry out this voice's instructions. As she walked down the rocky corridors, her fear and anxiety about the voice was beginning to give way to curiosity. Who did it belong to? Why was it telling her to do these things? Why did she feel the compulsion to do them, against every rational thought? Curiosity was something that she didn't experience often, and with good reason. Her father had sometimes used the phrase 'Curiosity killed the cat', and she had come close several times to finding out what that meant. Still, she reasoned that if she did what the voice wanted, she could go back to somewhere familiar sooner.

As she walked into the final chamber, she became dimly aware that the rest of the _Serenity_ crew were already there. She could see both the changeling captain and the Sangheili stood there, looking highly surprised to see her, lowering their weapons. The Spartan in blue armour was doing the same, though Gillian could not see her face behind the visor. She knew what it looked like, but without being able to see it Gillian had to admit that she felt very uncomfortable at present. Before her was a tall silver sculpture with a small holographic display at the base. She continued to walk towards it, the Technomantic threads moving around the chamber, caressing the walls and the occupants.

"Gillian?" she heard Alan ask, looking annoyed but keeping his distance. "What are you doing here? Get back to the ship!"

"_**Ignore him,"**_ said the voice. _**"Plug into the beacon."**_

She saw Alan take a step towards her, but as she moved her arm forward the cords shot out towards the sculpture, forcing him to jump back out of their way. Dorva reached out a hand to try to grab the cords, but his hand passed right through them. Seconds later, they attached themselves to the small console at the base. All of a sudden she saw a million images flashing before her eyes, appearing and disappearing so quickly that her brain didn't have time to process them. They soon became a blur to her, but every now and then she thought she saw clear shapes and shadows, realms that she didn't think anybody alive had ever seen.

The strain of taking in so much information at once was wearing on her. She felt as if her head was about to split open, and she could hear her heart pounding loud enough to blot out any other noise. She couldn't even hear her own scream of agony, nor did she feel anything as she collapsed to the floor and the cords flew back into her head. She couldn't see Nicole pulling off her helmet, and both she and Alan rushing over to her, frightened out of their minds. All she could see were the images from the beacon, and the depths of the Array. The outside world ceased to exist for her in that moment.

0

"How the fuck did she get off the ship?" Alan shouted, his eyes almost bulging out of his head, he was so angry.

"Don't shout, boss," Alistair groaned, clutching a bag of ice to his head as he reclined on the common room sofa. "My head feels enough like a smashed pumpkin as it is."

Alan, Nicole and Dorva had wasted no time in getting Gillian back to the ship as soon as she had collapsed. They had been shocked to see the airlock doors closed, and were lucky that they could still open them from the outside. They had taken her to the infirmary while Call had tried to fix the door control panel. They had not taken off yet, as Alistair was tending to his wounds, and in any case Alan didn't want him flying while he was concussed. The panel was now fixed, and Call was trying to find out what was wrong with Gillian while Alan had started a tirade against his crew in the common area. He could not believe that this had happened, that Gillian had put herself in so much danger and his crew had not been able to do anything about it.

"Alright, I'll ask again," Alan snarled, his tone softer but still angry. "How did she get off the ship? Why didn't anyone stop her?"

"It's not like we locked her bloody cabin door," muttered Alistair. "Besides, what could we have done against a Technomancer?"

"He's right, Excellency," said Dorva. "If Technomancers are as powerful as I keep hearing they are, then Alistair and Call are lucky to be alive."

"I don't believe this..." snarled Alan, running a claw through his hair. He knew that Dorva was right, but did not want to admit it. "Alright, as soon as we get back out there, she's going back to the Migrant Fleet. I don't like having a loose cannon on board."

"Oh, this coming from the guy who once threw Telek 'Heros off the top of a building," Nicole snapped, standing up and glaring at Alan.

"Why does everybody keep bringing that up?" muttered Alan, diverting his eyes away from her penetrating glare. "Besides, I don't see what that has to do with-"

"Oh, I think you do," said Nicole. "From what I've heard of the Fleet Shadow of Fury, you're the one who's considered a loose cannon even by their standards. It'd be pretty damn hypocritical of you to toss Gillian out." She folded her arms, her impressive height making her look all the more imposing. Alan was silent, taken aback by Nicole's attitude. Of all the people in the room, this kind of back-talk was least expected from her. He exhaled deeply and turned to go back into the infirmary.

"Everyone just get back to your stations," he said. "Alistair, as soon as you feel fit enough, get _Serenity_ back in the air."

"Sure, boss," replied Alistair, moving the ice-bag to cover his left eye, which was somewhat blackened. "Just give me a century or two before the world stops spinning."

Alan headed into the infirmary, where Gillian was laid on the bed, completely still. Call had opened one of her eyes and was shining a light into it. She shook her head as she pulled the light away and allowed Gillian's eye to close again.

"Any idea what's wrong with her?" asked Alan, moving in for a closer look. He could see Gillian's chest slowly rising and lowering, so she was clearly still alive.

"I'm not sure," said Call, shaking her head and putting her torch on a small table. "Her life signs are stable, but she's completely unresponsive to outside stimuli. It's like she's fallen into some kind of coma, and if that's true there's no telling how deep she is." She moved away from Gillian and stepped out into the common room. "There's nothing we can do for her now but let her rest. Dunkelzahn alone knows what the monument planted in her head."

"I'm wondering if it was another Forerunner beacon," said Alan, as he followed Call out, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Like the one Shepard came across on Eden Prime. If that's the case, we'll probably never find out what she saw; she's probably never going to speak to us, and Kiryuu seems to be the only one who can figure out those visions without his brain imploding, and I'd rather not get him involved. He's got enough problems as it is" He started to head up the stairs towards the dining area, Call walking beside him.

"I couldn't help but overhear you back there," she said, as they reached the corridor connecting the dining area to the engine room. "Are we really giving Gillian back to the Quarians?"

"We sure are," said Alan as they strode through the dining hall towards the bridge. "Not just for our sake, but for hers. She'd be more comfortable back on the Migrant Fleet, and in theory be less prone to freak-outs like this as a result."

"Good luck making her go back," said Call as they reached the bridge, Alan sitting himself at the co-pilot's console. "If what Hendel says is true, she's not going to want to leave until she finds her father. We'll probably end up stuck with her, and I'd rather you not get torn to pieces trying to force her back."

Alan looked over at Call, his eyebrow arched. "You know, Bishop was better at the whole analytical pep-talk thing," he said.

"I'm trying," said Call, folding her arms. She knew that Alan was only joking, but she still didn't like to be reminded of Bishop's absence, knowing that the old pilot was a hard act to follow. The awkward silence that followed was interrupted by a beeping from the communications console. Alan hit a switch and patched the caller through. It turned out to be Kiryuu, his reptilian face displaying on one of the multitude of screens on the console.

"Ah, good timing, granddad," said Alan. "We've found what we think is a Forerunner beacon down on Joab. I'm sending you the co-ordinates now, if you want to send a team in. The Blue Suns were hogging it, but they won't be a problem." As he typed in the co-ordinates and sent them to Kiryuu, he noticed that the mecha looked rather distracted. Normally such news would be big to him, but there was a look of great worry on his face. Alan always took this as a warning sign; if Kiryuu Knight of all people was worried, the situation had to be bad.

"What's wrong?" Alan asked, his expression becoming sour.

"_Well, I don't wish to sound ungrateful for your report,"_ said Kiryuu, _"but some worrying news has been brought to my attention. I've been monitoring all the communication bandwidths that I can, and I found something on what I thought were Turian channels. They claimed that one of their patrols has disabled a strange ship out on the borders of the Attican Traverse. From the way they described it, it sounds like the Collector ship you saw is now floating adrift."_

"Well, that's good news, right?" asked Alan, shrugging. "About time somebody did their damn job."

"_Here's the problem, Alan,"_ said Kiryuu, interrupting him. _"Turian communication channels usually have three layers of encryption. This only had one. My conclusion is that this transmission did not come from the Turians. Anybody who knows how their channels are encrypted would not be fooled by this, but not everybody has detection protocols that are capable of finding out these things."_

"A trap..." muttered Alan. Somehow he had the feeling that things were not so straightforward. He paused for a moment, scratching his chin, thinking things over. The idea that was now forming in his head was not a good one at all, but he failed to see any alternatives.

"Send me the co-ordinates," he said. "We'll go take a look."

"_Alan,"_ said Kiryuu, his eyes widening. _"Did you not hear a word I just said?"_

"I did," replied Alan, leaning towards the monitor. "I don't think we've got any choice though. We may not get another opportunity to take a closer look at these Collectors and figure out what we're up against." He looked towards Call for a moment, who now looked at Alan as if he had completely lost his mind, before turning back to Kiryuu. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't think my team could handle it."

Kiryuu sighed, running a claw through his green dreadlocks. _"You always were so reckless..."_ he groaned. _"Very well. I'm sending the co-ordinates now. I still say this is a very bad idea, but if you think you can cope, then go. Just be extremely careful; there's no telling what the Collectors have prepared for you, or anyone else who goes on that ship. Good luck, and Godspeed."_

With that, he signed off. Alan sighed and leaned back, now wondering whether he was making the right call. He knew it was a trap, and that if the Collectors were working with the Reapers this trap could take many forms. On the other hand he knew he was right; they may not get another chance like this to expose enemy weaknesses. He looked over at Call, who was now looking very worried.

"You do realise this means we're all walking into this trap too?" she said.

"Like I said," Alan said, standing up. "I'm sure you guys can handle it. If it turns out I'm wrong, you're free to hand in your notices."

"Before we all get slaughtered, of course," retorted Call, shaking her head. Alan just sighed as he reached for the intercom.

"Alistair," he said. "Hope you're ready to fly, as we've gotta dust off now. I'll explain where we're headed when you're up here." Trying to ignore Call's dagger-stare, he sat back down at the co-pilots console, rubbing his temples, trying not to picture the looks on everyone's faces when they found out that they were headed straight into the belly of the beast.


	12. Infestation Redux

**Infestation Redux**

A few relay jumps later, the _Serenity_ was approaching the Collector ship. It was just as Kiryuu had described it; it was completely adrift, with no lights on anywhere to be seen. At first Alan almost didn't see it against the darkness of space, but soon caught sight of the termite mound-like ship. He couldn't help but picture some overgrown monster in its place, just waiting for the right moment to pounce and devour them.

"We were pretty lucky to get a visual," said Alistair, taking the ship closer and closer to its mark as the rest of the crew gathered on the bridge to see the sight of the adrift vessel. "Not getting much in the way of emissions readings, and the passive infrared temperatures suggest most of the systems are offline. Thrusters are cold."

"That thing is massive..." Nicole breathed. "I knew it was big, seeing it on Horizon, but up-close like this..."

Alan couldn't help but share Nicole's sense of dread as the ship drew alongside. He now saw that the Collector ship was rotating steadily, doubtless keeping any artificial gravity intact. The ship was now filling up most of the view through the window, and what Alan now noticed was that there was no sign of any kind of damage; no hull breaches, not even so much as a blast burn.

"Looks like they didn't bother to fake any combat damage," he muttered.

"I'm not detecting any Mass Effect field distortions," said Call, sat at the co-pilot's console. "It looks like the drive core's offline. Surface scans show a small opening in the side facing us. We may be able to fit the hatch over it."

"They're just letting us inside..." groaned Alan.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to throw us into an obvious trap," said Alistair, though he still moved the ship around to align itself with the opening.

"I know..." said Alan. He then turned to Nicole. "That's why just you and me are going," he said.

"Me?" asked Nicole, looking very uncertain.

"Yes, you," nodded Alan. "The fewer of us that are going over, the fewer of us will be at risk when the trap's sprung. We go in, grab what we can and blitz our way out."

"I doubt it will be that simple, Shipmaster," said Dorva. "This will sound strange coming from me, but I say we should have contacted the rest of the fleet."

"I'm not putting the whole fleet at risk," said Alan. "If these guys are working with the Reapers, there's no telling what tricks they'll have up their sleeves for dealing with super carriers. Besides, I'd rather Telek not smash this thing up yet; they may have info that can help us beat the Reapers, or at least understand them better."

"Approaching the opening now, Captain," said Alistair. "Just do us a favour and try not to get yourselves killed."

"Noted," said Alan. He and Nicole headed down the cargo bay and suited up. Within minutes, both of them were stepping out of the airlock and into the ship itself. As he had suspected, the ship still had gravity. As _Serenity_ pulled away, he and Nicole raised their weapons, pointing them down the dark corridor that stretched before them. It was covered in what looked like brown chitin, reflecting the outside of the ship. Two large doors could be seen before them, one of which was shut. If the power was off, there would be no way to open it. Nicole's movements were very slight and apprehensive.

"Ugh..." she groaned as she looked around the walls. "It reminds me of an Invae hive."

"Keep it together," Alan said, attempting to sound reassuring. He knew how fearful Nicole was of the Invae, a race of insect-like creatures that could possess human bodies, and seeing this ship was bringing back bad memories for him too, of the first mission he and Nicole had together. They moved down the corridor, passing sealed doors. It was clear that the Collectors wanted to herd them. As they moved further down the corridor, they saw the walls dripping some kind of resin, and what looked like luminescent fungi on the ceilings, casting an eerie glow all around them. Neither of them had ever seen a ship like it; it was more like walking through a living organism.

"_Alan,"_ said Call suddenly through the radio, _"I've just got a look at the EM signature of the ship. It's the same one we saw on Horizon."_

"So the colonists may still be on here," said Alan.

"I doubt they're alive by now," said Nicole. With that thought making Alan feel worse, he led the pair further down the corridor, passing a large chasm on their right and strange brown webbing on their left.

"Listen, Captain," said Nicole suddenly. "About what I said before, about you being a loose cannon... I wanted to say-"

"It's forgotten, Nicole," said Alan, peering around him. "Besides, I _am_ a loose cannon. I'm also apparently suicidal, since I led you guys here."

"We'll just have to make the best of it now," said Nicole, "and try to give ourselves a way out of this trap." A few steps further down, the pair of them spotted something in the corridor, close to a sheer drop. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be one of the pods that they had seen on Horizon. It was empty.

"Christ..." Nicole breathed as she pointed her gun inside it. "Imagine being trapped in one of these things, completely at the mercy of the Collectors..."

"Try not to think about it," said Alan. "Easier said than done, I know, but try."

They continued on around a corner, passing more pods and peering intently into each shadow, expecting the Collectors to rush them at any minute. As they progressed, Alan found that his breathing was becoming harsher, his nerves threatening to overwhelm him. It was a moment before he noticed that they were now skirting around the chasm he had spotted earlier. On the ledge overlooking the precipice, he spotted a large mound opposite a resin-coated archway. As he approached, he gagged as he realised that the mound consisted of human bodies, twisted and mangled beyond recognition.

"Why would the Collectors leave these poor people lying around?" asked Nicole, sounding revolted.

"Could have been some kind of control group for an experiment," said Alan, kneeling down to examine the bodies closer. "I can think of worse things than death, like being a test subject for twisted aliens."

"That's not helping at all, Captain," Nicole chastised. "Let's just find any data we can and get out. I'd rather this didn't happen to us."

Alan nodded, and the pair turned around, heading down the corridor that was close to them. There was a light coming from around the corner, casting a blue glow all around. As they stepped down the passage, Alan was suddenly hailed on his commlink.

"_Captain?"_ Alistair's voice said. _"If you and Nicole aren't busy right now, I thought you ought to know the Normandy's just turned up."_

"Shepard picked up on the signal?" asked Alan.

"_Looks like it,"_ said Alistair. _"I'm patching the pilot through now."_

"_Hey, Tyler!"_ the rather cheery voice of Jeff "Joker" Moreau soon said. _"Long time no see!"_

"Joker?" asked Alan, sounding surprised. "You're in Cerberus too?"

"_For as long as they've given me my ship, yeah,"_ replied Joker. _"Guess you guys pinged that Turian signal too?"_

"Yeah, about that..." Alan began, but was interrupted by Joker.

"_Thought you oughta know that Shepard's on her way,"_ he said. _"Her shuttle's landed by the only opening on this ship we could find. No doubt her squad will catch up to you soon."_ With that, he signed off.

"By the sounds of it, they don't know the truth about the signal," said Nicole.

"I've a feeling they'll find out soon enough," said Alan, cursing under his breath. "I really didn't want Cerberus stooges to be snooping around."

"Is that what you think of Shepard?" asked Nicole. "She sounded pretty sincere on Horizon."

Alan said nothing, just shook his head and led Nicole further down the corridor. He hated having such strong doubts about Shepard, but he couldn't help but feel very apprehensive about her involvement with Cerberus. No matter how reluctant the relationship might be, there was no way to know what they were using her for. It left too many holes that could be exploited.

A short distance down the corridor, Alan and Nicole came across what looked like two pods stood on examination tables, stood before a blue-lit wall. Control panels could be seen beside the pods, coated in the same brown chitin as the walls, floor and ceiling. Most disturbingly, a Collector was lying in one of the pods, either dead or fast asleep. Alan pulled out his commlink, bringing up the hard-light Omni-Tool interface, while Nicole kept her gun aimed at the Collector, half-expecting it to wake up at any second.

"Call," Alan said into his commlink, "can you interface with their systems through my commlink? There's something odd here that I need you to check out."

"_I can try,"_ was Call's reply. _"Their wireless networks are surprisingly primitive. It's like they never expected anybody but Collectors to be wandering around their ships. Just point your Omni-Tool at a control panel you want me to hack and I'll see what I can do. It would help if you turned on the camera function too; I'll patch what you see through to the console."_

With that, Alan pointed his Omni-Tool at the control panel. Instantly it lit up, and reams of information in a completely alien alphabet displayed on the screen. He only hoped that Call would be able to make some sense of it.

"Captain Tyler?" a familiar female voice suddenly said over his commlink. He and Nicole turned around to find Commander Shepard approaching them, lowering her assault rifle as she approached. Two other figures were with her. One of them was Garrus, while the other was an Asari in skin-tight red leather and with piercing pale eyes that he did not recognise. Alan and Nicole lowered their own weapons.

"Joker told us you'd be coming on board," said Alan, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"I wondered if anybody else had picked up on that signal," said Shepard, striding up to Alan. "I'm just glad that at least it's somebody I know."

"Yeah, well..." Alan muttered. He still wasn't sure what to say to Shepard; after all, she was working with Cerberus, and he wasn't sure if they were listening in even now, patched through Shepard's radio. He just looked behind her at the Asari, who was eyeing him carefully.

"Oh, this is Samara," said Shepard, noticing where Alan was looking. "She's a Justicar who agreed to help us on our mission."

"Greetings," said Samara, tipping her head but never taking her eyes off Alan. The mutant just nodded as he indicated Nicole.

"Oh, this is Nicole-458," he said. "I believe you saw her on Horizon?"

"A Spartan, right?" said Shepard, looking over at Nicole. Alan couldn't help but notice that her tone was rather frosty. He remembered her mentioning two years ago that she considered Spartans to be nothing more than robots, and learning the truth of their creation seemed to have increased her revulsion of them. Without waiting for Nicole to reply she strode right past Alan and took a look at the Collector on the examination table. "What have we got here?" she asked.

"Not sure yet," said Alan. "Call's looking into it now."

"_If I may, Captain Tyler,"_ a female voice with an odd electronic quality suddenly chimed in, _"I would like to examine this data myself and offer a second opinion."_

"Who's that?" asked Alan.

"Oh, sorry," said Shepard as she brought up her Omni-Tool and held it up to the active terminal. "This is EDI. She works as our ship AI, and I'm sending her the data from this terminal now."

"The new _Normandy_ has an AI?" asked Nicole. "How the hell did Cerberus get one?"

"_Cerberus programmed me themselves,"_ replied EDI. _"I have a block that prevents me from learning exactly how, but I can assure you that no awkward deals with Kiryuu Knight were made."_

At this news, Alan felt as if his mind was about to explode. An AI created by Cerberus could not possibly be good news. He suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable... not to mention angry that Shepard would only bring this up now and apparently be completely blasé about it.

"Get it out of my comm. channels," he snarled, glaring at Shepard through the amber eye-screens of his helmet. "I don't want Cerberus listening on everything I do."

"I'm not exactly jumping for joy at this either," said Shepard. "Right now though, we don't have choice. That said, EDI's done good work so far, so I'm prepared to cut her a bit of slack."

"I don't bloody believe this..." Alan snarled, holding a claw up to his helmet. "I still think they addled your brain somehow when they brought you back from the dead..."

Shepard looked over at Alan, her eyes narrowing behind her helmet, but didn't say anything. Meanwhile, Samara moved in closer to examine the pod with the Collector body in it.

"Were they experimenting on one of their own?" she asked.

"Call," said Alan into his commlink, "I'm patching you through to Shepard's comm. channels. Have you been able to get anything yet? What were the Collectors up to here?" When a few seconds passed with no reply, he said again, "Call?"

"_Oh my God..."_ was Call's breathy reply.

"What is it?" asked Alan.

"_It looks like they were running baseline genetic comparisons between themselves and humanity,"_ said Call, though she still sounded as if she did not dare to believe what she was seeing.

"_I can confirm this, Shepard,"_ EDI chimed in.

"Are they looking for similarities?" asked Shepard.

"_I have no hypothesis on their motivations,"_ replied EDI. _"All I have are the preliminary results... They reveal something remarkable; a quad-strand genetic structure, identical to traces collected from ancient ruins. Only one race is known to have this structure..."_

"_Captain,"_ Call interrupted, still sounding shocked. _"If I'm reading this right... This DNA strand belongs to the Forerunners!"_

At this, Alan nearly choked. He didn't even know that Forerunner DNA samples had ever been collected before, but if Call was right, and these were indeed Forerunner DNA samples, then the implications this had were too horrifying to think about.

"My God..." Shepard breathed, backing away from the terminal. "The Forerunners weren't wiped out... They're just working for the Reapers now!"

"That's impossible..." Alan said, though he sounded unconvinced. "Whatever Forerunners were left after the Halos fired died out after re-wiring the Citadel. How can any of them have survived?"

"_These are no longer Forerunners,"_ said EDI, her calm voice providing an eerie contrast to Call's. _"Their genes show distinct signs of extensive genetic rewrite. The Reapers have repurposed them to suit their needs."_

"You'd think somebody would have picked up on this..." said Nicole, still sounding unsure.

"_No-one has had an opportunity to study a Collector's genetic code in this detail,"_ said EDI. _"I've matched 2,000 alleles to recorded fragments. This Collector likely descends from a Forerunner colony in the Styx Theta cluster. But there are signs of extreme alteration. Three fewer chromosomes, reduced heterochromatin structure, and elimination of superfluous 'junk' sequences."_

"_I hate to say it,"_ said Call, still sounding disbelieving, _"but she's right. This DNA sample's a mess, but every record I've checked does confirm it to be Forerunner. Generations of cloning and genetic mutation have done this to them."_

"Unbelievable..." muttered Alan, shaking his head. "The Reapers must have gathered a good chunk of them up before the Halos were fired, found a way to spare them and turn them into these... monsters..."

All was silent for a moment, as the party allowed this information to sink in. It was clear that King Ghidorah knew how to add insult to injury, and they dreaded to think what he had in mind for their respective races.

"No species should have to suffer through that," said Garrus, breaking the silence and shaking his head.

"Still," said Shepard, drawing her weapon again, "they're working for the Reapers now, and we've got to stop them. Let's find what we need before the Collectors come to salvage this ship. Move out!"

Garrus and Samara nodded, drawing their own weapons again. Alan and Nicole trailed behind them as they led the way around the corner. Nicole looked over at Alan, and he was pretty sure that she would be looking at him quizzically; the shock of learning the true fate of the Forerunners seemed to have pushed the idea of telling Shepard this was a trap out of his mind. With the way things were, if he was being honest with himself, he had half a mind not to tell anyone who worked for Cerberus, and in any case he had the feeling Shepard would find out for herself soon enough.

Above a large ramp in the next chamber, there was an oval-shaped hole with a light coming from the other end of it. Lining this tube were more of the pods Alan had seen earlier. Looking upwards, he was appalled to see more of them suspending from the ceiling.

"There must be hundreds of them," said Samara. "I wonder how many of them are... occupied."

"Too many," said Nicole firmly.

"_I detect no signs of life in the pods,"_ said EDI. _"It is probable the victims inside died when the ship lost primary power."_

With that thought now swimming through his mind, Alan followed the others as Shepard led the way up a ramp and along the chitin-lined corridors. He felt nauseous at the thought of so many humans dying in those pods, and the only consolation he could think of was that, perhaps, they had been spared from whatever horrible fate the Collectors had in mind for them. Their hands clenching their weapons so tightly that it was now starting to hurt, the party made its way around a corner and up a large ramp, from the top of which a sickly yellow light could be seen. Every now and then Alan thought he could hear a strange chittering noise, as if insects were moving all around them.

"_Commander, you gotta hear this,"_ said Joker. _"On a hunch I asked EDI to run an analysis on this ship."_

"_I compared the EM profile against data recorded by the original Normandy two years ago,"_ said EDI, making Alan wonder where she had managed to get the data from. _"They are an exact match."_

"The same ship dogging me for two years?" said Shepard, coming to the same conclusion that everyone else had. "Way beyond coincidence."

"_Something doesn't add up, Commander,"_ said Joker. _"Watch your back."_

"He's not wrong there..." Alan muttered. This prompted Shepard to turn and look at him as they continued up the ramp, glaring at him through her visor.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Never mind," Alan said firmly. He had been on the point of telling Shepard about his suspicions, but that spiteful part of him seemed to have suppressed any feelings of compassion he felt towards Shepard at this moment in time. Shaking her head at him, Shepard continued to lead the way up the ramp until the group emerged in what looked like the very centre of the ship. For a moment, all five party members were aghast as they found themselves inside a huge cylindrical chamber, thousands of kilometres across and seemingly stretching the entire length of the ship. The ends of the chamber couldn't be seen, with a sickly-coloured mist obscuring their view, and all around them the walls and ceiling were lined with untold millions of pods, like the ones they had seen earlier.

"This is unbelievable..." muttered Garrus, lowering his weapon.

"They could abduct every human in the Terminus Systems and not have enough to fill these pods," Samara chimed in.

"They must be planning to attack Earth," said Nicole, her eyes widening behind her visor.

"Not if we stop them," said Shepard, her grip on her rifle seeming to get tighter. She led the way along a path sandwiched between two walls made of the same chitin-like material as before. Alan could see pieces of metal poking through the chitin, hinting at the ship's more solid foundations. The chitin seemed to grow out of the sides of the huge space, twisting into strange alien formations that reminded Alan of paintings by Giger. For the first time since he had started exploring space, he felt that he had come across something that was genuinely alien. Eventually the path led down a ramp towards a small hexagon-shaped hollow surrounded by metal walls and pipes. In the centre was a raised podium with a green light flickering steadily on it, which Alan assumed was some kind of control panel.

"Where are the bodies of the Collector crew?" Samara suddenly asked, frowning. "Careful, Shepard. Something doesn't feel right about this."

As the party approached the podium, Alan could see Nicole looking at him. Though the visor prevented him from seeing her face he was sure that she was staring daggers at him. As Shepard approached the podium and activated her Omni-Tool, he now started to feel very guilty. If the trap was going to be sprung anywhere, it had to be here, right when Shepard thought she was on the verge of victory...

"EDI," Shepard was saying as she peered at the console lit by hex-shaped green lights, "I'm setting up a bridge between you and the Collector ship. See if you can get anything useful from the data banks."

"_Data-mine in progress, Shepard,"_ replied EDI after a few seconds. At this point, Alan felt his conscience get the better of him. He knew he was being needlessly vindictive towards Shepard, and after all that he had seen he would rather that none of them ended up the same as the other victims of the Collectors.

0

Sat in his usual chair on the bridge of the _Normandy_, Joker monitored EDI's data-mine, watching reams and reams of information scroll through the multiple holographic displays faster than any human could possibly read them. While he still had little love for the AI, at least she still allowed him to pilot the ship, and he couldn't help but admire her capabilities, not to mention her voice. That didn't change the fact that she was a Cerberus AI, and right now he wasn't sure if he could trust her, especially whenever she decided to take control of his chair as her idea of a joke. He wondered if that was some kind of payback for him smearing her bridge cameras with grease; obviously EDI didn't see the humour in the idea that every glimpse of him looked like a dream sequence.

His first sign that something had gone wrong was when the screens suddenly started to fill with static. Something had to be interrupting EDI's connection to the ship. His mounting sense of concern grew even more when there was a loud, angry clicking noise, and a red hologram suddenly appeared on one of the displays. It resembled a Collector, but had a much more insect-like appearance with a larger head, multiple legs and a set of scythes where the hands should be. The hologram regarded him with all four eyes for a moment before suddenly flickering off.

"Uh, that can't be good..." Joker muttered. It looked like it was going to be one of _those_ days.

0

"Listen, Shepard..." Alan began, when all of a sudden the control panel shut off, and there was a loud hissing noise as a series of pistons inside the glass and metal pipes moved.

"What the hell just happened?" Shepard barked into her commlink.

"_Major power surge,"_ was Joker's reply. _"Everything went dark, but we're back up now."_

"_I managed to divert the majority of the overload to non-critical systems,"_ said EDI. Around Shepard, everyone else was now suddenly very tense, pointing their guns up towards the top of the alcove. Alan in-particular could not shake off the feeling that they were now being watched, and for a second he was sure that he saw something moved in the shadows.

"_Shepard,"_ EDI continued, still sounding eerily calm. _"This was not a malfunction. This was a trap."_

As soon as she said this, the ground jolted violently beneath everyone's feet, and all of a sudden they felt themselves rising up and out of the alcove. The floor was in fact a small hexagon-shaped platform, which even now was floating higher and higher into the centre of the chamber. It was also rotating, making it harder for everyone to keep their balance.

"We need a little help here, EDI..." Shepard muttered.

"_I am having trouble maintaining connection,"_ said EDI. Even she was now beginning to sound worried. _"There is someone else in the system."_ All of a sudden the platform stopped moving, causing Alan and Samara to lose balance and topple over. As Garrus and Nicole helped them to their feet, Shepard looked down the chamber. A low whining noise could be heard, and she spotted several other floating platforms coming towards them. All of them were manned by Collectors carrying rifles, as well as several other horrific creatures that she had encountered on Horizon. She drew her rifle, and the others drew their own weapons as they saw the platforms approach. All of them scrambled for cover as the first shots erupted in their direction.

"_Connection re-established,"_ said EDI. _"I need to finish the download before I can override any systems."_

"Whatever you're doing, do it fast!" shouted Nicole as the Collectors' platforms attached themselves to their own, and torrents of laser fire spewed out at them. The group returned fire, but it was hard to hit anything as the platforms kept moving. The worst enemies were what Shepard later referred to as 'Scions', hulking monstrosities composed of a number of human corpses that shambled horrifically and shot biotic shockwaves out of a mounted arm-cannon. They were forced out of cover several times, and Alan was thankful that his shields still seemed to work.

"EDI, get us out of here!" Shepard barked as she continued to return fire, puncturing the hunched back of one of the Scions.

"_I am simultaneously fighting Collector firewalls in over 8,000 nodes,"_ EDI retorted. _"I am tasked to capacity."_

Shepard couldn't even take a moment to wonder when EDI had learned sarcasm before she was forced to return fire to more Collectors. After a while they managed to gun several Collectors down, but more kept arriving as other platforms floated in. Garrus managed to shoot several of them before they approached with his skills as a sniper, and eventually they did manage to wear the Collectors down.

"I think we're winning!" Garrus shouted as the Collectors' numbers began to thin out and no more reinforcements arrived.

"If you call being completely thrashed winning!" Alan retorted. All of a sudden he felt something grip at his back, spinning him around and then striking him with a vicious backhand that sent him across the platform. Something had to have gotten the drop on him from above, and it took him a moment to remember that the Collectors had wings. He quickly looked up to see another Collector had landed on the platform, but this one looked different. It looked as if it was on fire, its body bursting with a golden light. It sprung over in Alan's direction, narrowly avoiding Shepard's bullets. It reached down and grabbed Alan's neck, lifting him off his feet.

"_You cannot stop us, little Minya,"_ the Collector suddenly said, though it had no obvious mouth. The shock of hearing a Collector talk was overridden by Alan's sense of terror as he recognised who the voice belonged to. _"Not you, and not Shepard. In the end, you will all submit to our spell."_

Even as Alan felt the Collector's grip on his neck tighten, Alan managed to reach down to his holster and pull out the handle of his whip. He released the line and swung it hard, the white-hot plasma searing through the air. The Collector howled as it was slashed by the whip, releasing Alan. As he slashed at it again, the fire seemed to consume it, and the body was rapidly reduced to ashes, completely burnt out. Alan took a moment to gather his thoughts, gasping for breath as the rest of the group managed to finish off the last of the Collectors.

"That was..." he spluttered, as he approached the control console to rejoin the others.

"King Ghidorah's voice," Shepard finished, opening her Omni-Tool and re-establishing the connection to the console. "I know. I heard that voice coming from Sovereign. He calls himself Harbinger now, and he was taunting us on Horizon. Somehow he's able to directly control any one of the Collectors at any time. Frankly I'm sick of hearing that voice now."

"Manda always said that he was a Prima Donna," Alan muttered, remembering a friend of his back on Earth who worked with the Miami police. At present the rest of the Reapers were making their way to the galaxy from Dark Space, and the thought that King Ghidorah could still control his minions over what had to be an unbelievable distance unnerved him. It was then that he saw a small blue orb, composed of hundreds of blue holographic lights, standing on a neck that made it resemble a chess pawn, floating above the command console.

"I have regained control of the platform, Shepard," said a voice that Alan recognised to be EDI's. It occurred to Alan that this was the avatar of the AI, the one that it used to interact with others. Unlike other AIs Alan had seen, this one did not resemble a human. It seemed that Cerberus cared little for trying to humanise their creations.

"I knew you wouldn't let us down, EDI," said Shepard.

"I always work at optimal capacity," EDI replied. Alan was sure that he heard a rather smug tone in that voice as her avatar disappeared from the console. It was then that the platform started to move again, carrying the group further down the chamber. From this position the sheer size of the place left an even bigger impression, with the strange chitin formations and millions of pods lining the walls reinforcing just how much of a threat the Collectors posed. King Ghidorah's intervention had cemented the idea that the Collectors were indeed working for the Reapers, and if the Collectors were originally Forerunners there was no telling how many of them had been indoctrinated. It was almost too much to bear thinking about.

"Did you get what we needed?" asked Shepard, apparently unperturbed by the movement of the platform.

"_I found data that would help us successfully navigate the Omega 4 Relay,"_ said EDI.

"What's the Omega 4 Relay?" asked Nicole.

"That's where the Collectors keep coming from," said Shepard. "We assume they've got some kind of home-base on the other side, but no-one has ever used it and come back."

"_I also found the Turian distress call that served as the lure for this trap,"_ said EDI. _"The Collectors were the source. It is unusual."_

"What are you getting at?" asked Shepard as the platform landed with a dull thud in a deep brown crevice.

"_Turian emergency channels have three layers of encryption,"_ said EDI. _"This only had one. It is not possible that the Illusive Man would believe the distress call was genuine."_

"What makes you so sure?" asked Shepard.

"_I found the anomaly with Cerberus detection protocols,"_ replied EDI, now sounding very concerned. _"He wrote those protocols himself."_

"_He knew it was a trap?"_ Joker chimed in. _"Why would he send us into a trap?"_

"That son of a bitch sent us right into Collector hands!" Shepard snarled, pounding her own fist into her palm.

"And here I thought I'd had my betrayal and attempted murder for this year," said Garrus in a wry tone. It was then that Shepard rounded on Alan.

"You wanted to tell me something before the shit hit the fan," she said, her eyes narrowed. "You knew about this trap all along, didn't you?"

There was an uncomfortable pause. Alan knew he had messed up, and he wondered just how much damage this latest misfire would cause to him.

"Shepard, I..." he began, but Shepard interrupted him.

"Oh, never mind," she muttered. "Let's just concentrate on getting out of here right now."

"_Uh, Commander,"_ Joker suddenly said, sounding very worried. _"We've got another problem. The Collector ship is powering up."_ Even as he said this a low hum could be heard throughout the ship, indicating that the power was back on. _"You need to get out of there before their weapons come online. I'm not losing another Normandy!"_

"_I do not have full control of their systems,"_ EDI chimed in. _"I will do what I can. Sending coordinates for shuttle extraction."_

"Come on, let's move!" Shepard said firmly, pulling out her assault rifle and leading the way down a narrow passage close to them.

"Alistair, do you read me?" Alan said into his commlink as he followed the others. "The trap has been sprung! Get out of there now!"

"_What?"_ Alistair barked in reply. _"What about you and Nicole?"_

"We'll get out on the _Normandy_!" replied Alan, diving for cover as the group reached an open area and swarms of Collector drones opened fire on them. "Just get anywhere other than here! _Serenity_'s not gonna get destroyed because of me!"

0

Gillian could not tell how long she had been there, in this abyss of information, images and scripture flashing through her mind at an incredible rate. Had she been there a few hours? A day? A year? Perhaps she had always been there, and that world she had left was the illusion. All that she knew right now were the images flashing through her eyes. She was not sure if what she was looking at was the past, the present or the future; it could even be all three at once, for all she knew, all of time meshed together into an endless now. She felt as if her skull would split open just from trying to make sense of it all, if she even had a skull to split open in this place. Physical boundaries didn't seem to matter anymore. Now, however, she felt something else; an odd tugging sensation, and the images seemed to whip by her even faster, slowly fading away, to be replaced with nothing but blackness.

Very slowly, she began to feel her eyes open, the blackness now replaced by blurred shapes and colours. She blinked a few times, trying to make her eyes focus. There was a bright light right above her, and so she tilted her head to the side to avoid staring into it. After a few moments it occurred to her that she was laying on her back on a bed of some sort. She groaned as she sat upright, every muscle in her body feeling stiff. As she looked around her and her eyes started to come back into focus, she recognised the room as being the infirmary on the _Serenity_, complete with cabinets full of drugs and medical instruments lining the walls. Immediately she felt very uncomfortable, as it reminded her of the frequent tests that her doctors in the Grissom Academy had made her endure, tests that she had later learned were making her worse instead of better. Immediately she got to her feet and staggered out into the common area, where she immediately felt calmer, but not as calm as she would be back in her cabin.

When she had taken a moment to calm herself down and organise her thoughts, her memories began to come back to her. She remembered the commanding, yet somehow soothing voice, using her glowing cords to connect to the beacon, and then blacking out. She also found that she could not stop thinking about one thing in-particular; a series of numbers, and faint images that she could not quite make out, were swimming through her head and blotting out her own thoughts. She faintly recognised the numbers as being a set of coordinates, after spending a lot of time observing them being inputted by Quarian navigators, but she could not identify where they led. For some reason that she could not explain, she felt that she had to get to those coordinates. It seemed as if, right now, there was nothing more important than to go to that specific site. She also could not shake the feeling that there was no time to waste, and no time for debate.

So she made her way up the stairs and through the dining area to reach the bridge. When she reached the steps leading up to the bridge, she paused and wondered what to do next. She was sure that the _Serenity_ crew would not look on her favourably after attacking one of them and dismantling a control panel. She doubted she could persuade them to set a course for a set of unfamiliar coordinates. On the other hand she could not shake the feeling that there was no time to argue, that they had to be going to those coordinates right now. There was only one course of action that seemed open to her. So she reached behind her head and pulled out the Technomantic cords again. She was not eager to use them again after what happened last time, but right now it seemed the only plausible course of action.

As the fine, softly-glowing threads wrapped around her arms, she stepped up into the bridge to find Alistair at the pilot's console, Dorva stood gripping the railing beside the gargoyle tightly, and Call at the co-pilot's console. Out of the window, the enormous Collector ship, now with orange lights switching on along the length of it. Gillian could hear Alan shouting down the communication channel _"Serenity's not gonna get destroyed because of me!"_ before there were loud sounds of weapons fire, and then silence.

"Fuck..." Alistair muttered, before he grabbed the control stick firmly. The Collector ship soon slid out of view as Alistair steered away from it.

"Are we really just going to abandon them, Alistair?" asked Dorva, peering at the pilot.

"Captain's orders," said Alistair, scowling. "We've just gotta hope he and Nicole can get out of there with Shepard."

"I never thought I would see you run away," muttered Dorva. "Not after you flew into a Flood-infested Shield Installation to rescue our Shipmaster."

"I don't like the idea of them being on a Cerberus vessel," said Call, shaking her head. "I don't trust any AI that didn't come from Kiryuu, and once they find out what Nicole is... We know they tried to create their own Spartans once..."

"Look, we can't argue about any of this now!" barked Alistair, now looking very anxious. "Just set the slip-space coordinates for anywhere that's not here!"

"Go here," said Gillian suddenly, her voice still with that peculiar monotone, taking this as her cue to act. The others spun around in surprise, but before any of them could do anything Gillian's cords flew out from her and attached themselves to the co-pilot's console. Many figures scrolled along the screens, and it took a few moments before any of the group could react.

"By the Gods..." Dorva breathed, his mandibles wide open in shock. He was about to advance on Gillian, but Alistair reached out an arm to stop him.

"Don't move!" he barked. "Those cords slammed me just because I was there. I hate to think what they'll do if you try to strike her!"

"There is no telling what she will do to the _Serenity_'s systems!" bellowed Dorva in protest, but Alistair held him firm.

"Do you want to be scattered to the opposite ends of the galaxy?" he retorted. Call, meanwhile, had moved as close as she dared to the co-pilot's console, and was examining the data on the screens.

"She's activating the slip-space drive," she said, her eyes wide. "These coordinates... That area's uncharted! We don't know what's in there!"

"Let's hope Gillian does..." Alistair breathed, looking concerned at Gillian, who didn't look at any of the others as she concentrated on the control panel. Her expression didn't change as the slip-space portal opened and the _Serenity_ passed through it into parts unknown; whatever was waiting for them at those coordinates, Gillian did not seem to be concerned about it. She was certain that there was something there that she and the _Serenity_ crew desperately needed; the only trouble was that she could not say what this something was or why she knew they needed it.

0

A few minutes later, Shepard, Alan and the others had finally reached the corridor leading back to the shuttle. They had fought against hordes of Collector drones and Husks until every muscle in their bodies ached and their thermal clips were in danger of overheating. It was clear that the Collectors intended to overwhelm them with sheer numbers, but they had fought on, desperately searching for a way out. EDI, as it turned out, had proven to be an enormous help while she was hacking the Collectors' systems, opening doors and finding alternate routes when the Collectors tried to seal them inside.

At last they saw the shuttle waiting for them at the end of the corridor, stood waiting at the point where the passage opened out into the void of space. The group thanked their respective makers that the Collectors had not decided to switch off the gravity, for that would have put them at a fatal disadvantage. All five fired their weapons behind them, cutting down another horde of the zombie-like Husks that tried to charge them, howling dismally as their bullets shredded them. One got too close for comfort, but was cut down by the white-hot fire of Alan's Technomantic whip.

"_We're outta time, Commander!"_ Joker said anxiously over the commlink. _"We have to go!"_

"Did the _Serenity_ make it?" asked Alan, as he fired several shots from his revolver at more incoming drones.

"_Serenity's all clear, Captain Tyler!"_ said Joker. _"They jumped into slip-space a few minutes ago! Now move it!"_

"You heard the man!" barked Shepard as she too fired at the oncoming monsters. "Everybody onto the shuttle! Move!"

All five of the group threw themselves into the small Kodiak-class shuttle. The shuttle didn't seem to have any pilot, but even before the hatch closed it guided itself out of the corridor and back into the _Normandy_'s awaiting shuttle bay. Shepard didn't even wait for the shuttle to land before she opened the door and dashed up to the bridge, with Alan in hot pursuit.

"_Strap in, people!"_ Joker said over the ship's intercom. _"Gonna make 'em work for it this time!"_

Alan wondered what Joker meant, but as he and Shepard reached the bridge, an enormous energy beam suddenly shot out of the Collector ship, narrowly missing the _Normandy_. The huge sickly-yellow energy blast could be seen firing over the ship's starboard bow, almost like a warning shot. Joker frantically manipulated the controls to steer the _Normandy_ out of the path of that savage, unearthly weapon. Shepard gripped the back of Joker's seat, her fingers digging into it to the point it was becoming painful, while Alan held onto the navigation console.

"I can't dodge this guy forever, EDI!" shouted Joker. "Get us the hell outta here!"

"_Specify a destination, Mr. Moreau,"_ was EDI's reply from the ship's speakers, sounding eerily calm.

"Anywhere that's not here!" seethed Joker as the ship shook, the shielding clipped by the laser. One direct hit and it would be all over.

"_Very well,"_ said EDI. _"Engaging Mass Effect core."_

There was a high-pitched whine from the bowels of the ship as the slip-space drive kicked in, and within seconds the ship was shooting forward at faster-than-light speeds, leaving the monstrous Collector ship far behind.


	13. The Other Side

**The Other Side**

Nobody on board the _Normandy_ breathed easily until Joker confirmed that the Collector ship was not in pursuit. Alan wondered why the Collectors did not chase them, as the ship could not activate its stealth technology while at FTL speeds. It seemed reasonable to assume then that, like their master, the Collectors were toying with Shepard and her allies, apparently confident that they would be successful on their next encounter.

"Call coming in from the Illusive Man, Commander," said Joker, turning his chair towards her and looking at her with a grim expression. "I figure you've got a few words for him too."

Shepard immediately headed to the conference room at the back of the deck, with Alan following at her heels. Shepard looked furious and kept shooting harsh glances back at Alan. The mutant knew he deserved it; his own petty desire to teach Shepard a lesson had overridden his better judgement. Neither said a word until they reached the conference room, which was a plain-looking room with a large square-shaped table with a holographic display in the middle.

"You wait here," she said to Alan as he stood by the door. "I've got to talk with the Illusive Man."

"Tell him Kiryuu's invited him out for a 'chat'," replied Alan, his eyes narrowed. He could not believe that Shepard had a direct line to the Illusive Man himself; Alan knew several people who wanted him dead for all that he had done. Shepard herself had every reason to want the same; her own N7 unit had been almost wiped out by a Cerberus experiment on Akuze. Shepard said nothing as the table lowered and a hologram of an amber ring-shaped grid appeared. Shepard stepped into it, and found herself once again looking into the Illusive Man's office, something Alan could not see from his viewpoint. The Illusive Man himself was there, sat calmly in his chair, holding a lit cigarette, his cybernetic eyes twinkling in the low light.

"Shepard," said the Illusive Man, "Looks like EDI extracted some interesting data before the Collector ship came back online."

"Cut the act," hissed Shepard, leaning forward as the Illusive Man calmly took a drag from his cigarette. "You set us up, and you'd better have a damn good reason for it."

"We needed information on the Omega 4 relay," replied the Illusive Man. "That required direct access to Collector data. It was too good an opportunity to pass up."

"You went too far," snarled Shepard. "You put me and every one of my crew at risk. We're supposed to be working to stop the Collectors, but I can't trust you."

"I put you at risk, yes," said the Illusive Man, remaining calm and collected while he stubbed out his cigarette. "But without that information, we don't reach the Collector homeworld, and you and I and every other human may as well be dead." He slowly stood up out of his chair and straightened his back. "It was a trap... but I was confident in your abilities. And don't forget EDI. The Collectors could not have anticipated her."

"You could have told me the plan," Shepard retorted. "You say I'm important, but you sure try hard to get me killed."

"I needed the Collectors to believe that they had the upper hand," said the Illusive Man. "Telling you could have tipped them off in any number of ways. Besides, I wouldn't have sent you in if I didn't think you'd succeed."

"I would have found another way," spat Shepard, her arms folded. "I never put people in unnecessary danger."

"It's never that simple," said the Illusive Man, sounding as if he was scolding an impulsive child. "You of all people should know that." 

"Well, I know that I'll be a lot more careful," Shepard retorted in a deeply sarcastic tone. "With the Collectors, and with you."

"This is no time for petty grudges," replied the Illusive Man, sitting back down. "Things are about to get a lot tougher. EDI confirmed our suspicions." He paused to pull out another cigarette, light it and take a drag before continuing. "The Reapers and Collector ships use an advanced Identify Friend/Foe system that the relays recognise. All we need to do is get our hands on one of those IFFs."

"I was just on the Collector ship!" Shepard exclaimed, throwing her arms up and glaring at the Illusive Man. "Why didn't you say anything about finding their IFF?"

"As I said, EDI just confirmed it," replied the Illusive Man, his eyes narrowed. "Besides, you wouldn't have had time to find and extract it. But we have options." He reached over to pick up a glass of whiskey that was in a cup-holder on one of the arm rests. "A UNSC science team recently determined that the "Great Rift" on the planet Klendagon is actually an impact crater from a mass accelerator weapon." He paused a moment to take a sip of his whiskey, setting it down again before continuing. "A very old mass accelerator. I sent a team to find either the weapon or its target. They found both. The weapon was defunct, but it helped us plot the flight path of the intended target; a 37 million year old derelict Reaper. We found it damaged and trapped in the gravity of a brown dwarf."

"I saw what Sovereign did to the Citadel fleet," said Shepard, shaking her head. "Hard to imagine anything could stop something that powerful."

"This vessel is a relic from a battle waged while mammals took their first steps on Earth," said the Illusive Man as he flicked the loose ash from his cigarette into an ashtray on the other arm rest. "There's no trace of the species that took the shot. Perhaps it was their one moment of defiance before being wiped out."

"Aren't brown dwarfs basically stars that didn't quite make it?" asked Shepard.

"Simply put, but accurate," said the Illusive Man, nodding his head. "They're gas giants that don't quite have the masses of stars. Expect gale-force winds and extremely high temperatures. The Reaper has a Mass Effect field that keeps it in orbit; likely an automated response to the external threats. It's stable, but I won't call it safe."

Shepard was silent for a moment, scratching her chin, before returning another cold glare at the Illusive Man. "I only believe you because I doubt you'd repeat yourself so soon," she said.

"It's no less a risk, Shepard," said the Illusive Man. "We lost contact with Dr. Chandana's team shortly after they boarded. Initial reconnaissance reveals no clues, and it was too risky to commit more resources." He paused for a moment to take another drag from his cigarette. "But now we need that IFF. I'll forward the coordinates to Joker. In the meantime..." He narrowed his eyes, leaning towards Shepard. "I suggest you tell your crew that I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily. It will make things easier going forward." With that, he cut the transmission as he blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke.

Shepard stepped away as the holographic grid faded, shaking her head with a grim expression. For a brief moment she looked exhausted as she stepped off the holographic projector, the table rising back up from the floor. Alan was leaning on the doorframe, his arms folded, trying to avoid Shepard's eye. Alan could only hear the Illusive Man's voice very faintly, but even if he could only hear Shepard's side of the conversation it seemed apparent that this was not a happy working relationship. He had thought of saying something along those lines, but he knew there were more important matters that had to be discussed, and as Shepard approached him with a frosty glare he knew that topic would have to be addressed.

"How did you know about the Collectors' trap?" she asked.

"Kiryuu picked up the transmission," Alan said. "He spotted the same problem that your AI did." He shook his head, his face looking as apologetic as his reptilian features would allow. "Listen, Shepard, I-"

"I don't want to hear it," Shepard cut in, pointing at him. "Whatever reason you had for not telling me about the trap, I don't want to know. Hell, I get that you're pissed off with Cerberus, especially after seeing what they did to Lord Hood. I am, however, astounded that you didn't think to get Kiryuu to pass a message on to me. If anybody could have found me, he could, and I doubt even Cerberus could crack his encryptions. What's worse than not trusting me, though, is that you put both my crew and your crew at risk. After you'd flown with the Fleet Shadow of Fury for so long, I thought you had more sense than that."

She did this with the sound of a schoolteacher scolding a naughty child. All Alan could think of to say was 'sorry', but he was sure that would not be enough. He knew he had let his own pettiness cloud his judgement. However, while he wanted to trust Shepard, he still could not trust Cerberus, and he could not for the life of him figure out why Shepard was still apparently willing to go along with the Illusive Man's plans. Just from their conversation he could tell that she was not happy about the arrangement, so why was she sticking with it? It made no sense. Shepard sighed, and her gaze softened slightly, but lost none of the fire that made her seem such a strong authority figure.

"Look," she said, "don't worry about the _Normandy_ crew. They're good people on this ship. Let me worry about their ties to Cerberus. I just hope they're open to other ways of doing things."

Alan wondered for a moment if Shepard had figured out the blood bond between them that had been caused by the Lazerus Project. More likely, however, it was just a hunch that she had. Shepard had always seemed very intuitive; a lot like Telek, in fact. He tried to look more confident as his golden cat-like eyes looked back into Shepard's green ones.

"The old 'lead by example', eh?" said Alan, nodding. It seemed a perfectly reasonable idea; if these people could be influenced to follow a better path than Cerberus', it couldn't hurt to try, though he hoped that Cerberus wouldn't try to throw a spanner in that particular works. "Alright," he said. "I just hope the Commander I knew is still in there."

"She never left," Shepard replied, folding her arms and nodding. With that, she tilted her head up to the ceiling. "EDI, send Miranda, Jacob and Mordin to the conference room, please. We've got a lot to talk about."

"_Of course, Shepard,"_ replied EDI's voice from the ship's speakers. Alan had to admit that he still didn't like the idea of an all-seeing Cerberus AI, but he didn't want to shatter the goodwill that had just appeared between him and Shepard. Moments later, the three beings in question walked into the conference room, and Alan was surprised to find that one of them was a tall, spindly Salarian. He already knew about Garrus, Samara and the Krogan he had seen on Horizon, and it seemed apparent to him now that Cerberus had to be desperate if such a notoriously anti-alien group were bringing in aliens to help stop the Collectors. The dark-skinned man, who Alan assumed to be Jacob, approached him, giving him a salute.

"Captain Tyler," said Jacob. "Heard a lot about you and the Fleet Shadow of Fury. The UNSC is damn lucky to have guys like you in it." He held a hand out, and Alan just stared at it for a moment, unsure how to react to approval from a Cerberus officer. However, he reasoned that he might as well stay on good terms with this man, for Shepard's sake more than anything, so he shook the hand, though perhaps with a tighter grip than normal.

"Probably, Jacob," the woman called Miranda chimed in, her arms folded in a way that somehow managed to look provocative and her mouth twisted into a smirk. "Considering the Elites almost helped the Covenant to wipe out all life in the galaxy before the Reapers' schedule. Lord Hood was a brilliant man, but he always did seem to have a soft spot for outcasts."

"Is this really the time, Miranda?" said Jacob, frowning. It seemed he had noticed Alan's brow furrow and his right claw begin to get tense.

"Yes," the Salarian known as Mordin said in his thin, reedy voice, his arms gesticulating. "Sangheili defection from Covenant commendable, but not relevant to discussion. To use human nautical term, scuttlebutt around crew suggests Illusive Man willingly sent us into trap. That is..." He paused for a moment to inhale through his nostrils. "Problematic."

Shepard chose that moment to inform the trio of the events on the Collector ship. All three of them seemed to take the information in, and when it came to explaining the Illusive Man's motivations none of the trio seemed overly surprised. Mordin looked thoughtful, Miranda almost looked approving, while Jacob shook his head with a furrowed brow.

"So the Illusive Man didn't sell us out," he said, leaning on the table and frowning. "Could've fooled me."

"Lied to us," said Mordin, pacing back and forth. "Used us. Needed access to the Collector data banks. Necessary risk."

"He tries something like that again and the Collectors will be the least of his problems," said Shepard, her arms folded and scowling. She turned towards the table, where EDI's blue pawn-shaped avatar was hovering above the glass surface. "EDI, are you sure this IFF is going to work?"

"My analysis is accurate, Shepard," replied EDI. "I have also determined the approximate location of the Collector homeworld based on navigational data from their vessel."

A holographic map of the Milky Way galaxy suddenly appeared above the table, with a circular cursor hovering over it. It slowly moved in a spiral path, coming to rest right in the glowing centre of the map. All five individuals in the room peered at the map, with looks of confusion slowly appearing on each face.

"That can't be right..." said Miranda, finally breaking the silence. Alan just shook his head and turned to Shepard.

"Might want to check your AI's subroutines," he said. "I think there's a virus in the software."

"I do not make mistakes, Captain Tyler," said EDI in a tone that almost sounded like indignation. "The Collector homeworld is somewhere in the galactic core."

"Can't be," scoffed Jacob. "The core is just black holes and exploding suns. There are no habitable planets there."

"Could be an artificial construction," Mordin chimed in. "Space station protected by powerful Mass Effect fields and radiation shields."

"Even the Collectors don't have that kind of technology," said Miranda, still looking sceptical. Shepard, however, just turned away, her chin in her hand.

"The Collectors are just servants of our real enemy," she said in a grim tone, "and we all know what their master is capable of. King Ghidorah built the Reapers, the mass relays and the Citadel. Who's to say he can't build a space station surrounded by black holes?"

Alan had to admit to himself that what Shepard said made a lot of sense. After everything he had seen King Ghidorah do, creating a hideout in the most dangerous region of the galaxy must have seemed like child's play. In spite of the danger, there was no better way to defend something valuable.

"No wonder nobody's ever returned from a trip through the Omega 4 relay," he said, shaking his head.

"The logical conclusion is that a small safe zone exists on the far side of the relay," said EDI. "A region where ships can survive. Standard relay transit protocols would not allow safe passage. Drift of several thousand kilometres is common, and would be fatal in the galactic core. The Reaper IFF must trigger the relay to use more advanced, encrypted protocols."

By this point, Shepard had walked back up to the conference table with an expression of deep thought. She had received orders to find the IFF, and now they knew exactly why they needed it and where they would be going. However, something didn't feel right. The members of her team had approached her with their own issues, and she was sure that, right now, they lacked focus.

"Just because we can follow the Collectors through the relay doesn't mean we can take them out," she said. "I don't want to go after them until I know we're ready."

"Sooner or later we need that IFF," said Jacob. "I say, why wait?"

"It's a derelict Reaper," said Miranda, frowning. "What if the Collectors are waiting for us? We may want to build up the team before we take that kind of risk."

"The more people we have on our side," said Shepard, nodding in agreement, "the better our chances of success. We need to keep building up the team."

"It's your call, Commander," said Jacob, looking a little defeated. "Whatever you decide, we're with you." With that, he gave Shepard a quick salute before stepping out of the conference room, closely followed by Mordin. Miranda seemed to hesitate for a moment with a meaningful look at Shepard, before also walking out. Alan watched her leave, shaking his head and beating a fist into his palm. It was then that a beeping sound came from his commlink, closely followed by Alistair's voice.

"_Are you there, Captain?"_ he was asking in a rather urgent tone. _"Please tell me you made it off that ship!"_

"I'm here, Alistair," Alan replied, raising his commlink closer to his mouth. "We both made it off. We're on the _Normandy_ now."

"_Thank God for that!"_ said Alistair, with an audible sigh of relief. _"I didn't fancy taking on your job full-time!"_

"Did the Collectors follow you?" Alan asked.

_"No,"_ replied Alistair. _"We got away scot-free. That was too bloody close, though; I think we ought to speak to Telek about getting a stealth drive fitted."_

"I'm sure that'll please Call," said Alan in a wry tone. "She'll probably burn out her processors trying to stop all our resources from being spread too thin."

"_Well, anyway,"_ said Alistair, _"you're not gonna believe what we've found! I won't say anything now, not while you're under Cerberus' nose, and besides you have to see this to believe it. I'll send you the coordinates of a rendezvous point. Have the Normandy meet us there."_

"Gotcha," said Alan. "We'll be there as soon as possible." With that, he signed off, turning to look at Shepard. "I'll need to send these to Joker."

"You sure you want to risk being hacked and tailed by Cerberus?" asked Shepard, her arms folded and her voice thick with sarcasm.

"Touché," said Alan. "Just let me send the damn coordinates."

"Send them to me now," said Shepard, bringing up her Omni-Tool. "Same channel as last time." When Alan did so, Shepard pressed a few more holographic buttons on the device and spoke into it. "Joker, head to these coordinates so we can drop off our guests."

"_Aye-aye, Commander,"_ replied Joker over the intercom. _"They ought to know though that I charge a thousand credits per light year."_

Shepard just shook her head at this, turning back to Alan. "Want a tour?" she asked. "We've gotten a few upgrades."

"Might as well," Alan shrugged, not sounding convinced. "It's not like I'm going anywhere for a couple of hours."

So, for the time it took for the _Normandy_ to reach the rendezvous point, Shepard showed Alan around the ship and introduced him to the team she was leading in the fight against the Collectors. Looking around the ship, Alan noticed the smooth, gleaming surfaces, looking clean enough to eat off of, and contrasted it with the rather dark-blue stylings of the original _Normandy_. He shook his head every time they passed a Cerberus logo pasted onto a wall. To him, the ship felt cold and sterile, as if the process of building it had been completely robotic. He preferred the much less formal look of the _Serenity_, and to a lesser extent the _Shadow of Darkness_.

He was also surprised to learn that, along with Garrus and Joker, both Tali and Dr. Karin Chakwas were also on board, though when questioned about it they both confirmed that they were there for Shepard's sake, not Cerberus'. Dr. Chakwas confirmed that she was certainly not on Cerberus' payroll; it seemed that she had joined not just for Shepard, but to help Joker as well. Tali, meanwhile, mentioned that she had even less reason to trust Cerberus, for they had once attacked the Migrant Fleet while looking for a young human Technomancer who was hiding with them. Alan knew instantly that she had to be referring to Gillian, even if she didn't know her name, but he didn't dare confirm this while on a Cerberus vessel. He also couldn't help but feel there was an ulterior motive at work; doubtless Shepard was feeling more comfortable with familiar faces around. It didn't seem too much of a stretch to think that Cerberus was using Garrus, Tali, Joker and Chakwas as much as they were using Shepard.

Introductions with the rest of Shepard's strike team were even more awkward. It seemed that every one of them had staked a claim on a particular room, rarely interacting with each other or with anyone else on board the ship. They were a team of misfits that seemed to be struggling to get along, reminding Alan in many ways of his own crew and the first few times they had worked together. One thing he noticed was that all of them seemed a bit distracted, as if they had other things on their mind. Doubtless this was why Shepard wasn't keen to follow the Illusive Man's orders at that point. That said, there were a couple of memorable moments, such as when the Krogan known as Grunt mentioned that he wanted to pit his wits against a number of Sangheili battalions someday. The woman known as Jack, who squatted in the engineering stairwell, simply said "You are one ugly motherfucker" to him before ignoring him.

The rest of the _Normandy_ crew seemed amiable enough. Some of them even saluted Alan as he passed them, while the mess sergeant, Gardner, offered him a try of some of his calamari gumbo, which he had apparently based on an Asari recipe. Alan wondered if any of the people on board the ship were aware of what it was they had signed up for; Cerberus' atrocities were quite well-publicised, so he found it hard to find a line of reason for why someone would join the organisation, knowing their sordid past. For the sake of diplomacy with Shepard, he did not voice those concerns. Nicole, however, did not apparently share such concerns, for as they were about to leave the mess hall she stepped in front of Shepard, her helmet removed.

"Listen, ma'am," she said, "I just did some digging in your old personnel file. I found something that explained a lot back on that ship. I think we need to talk."

Alan knew that Shepard considered Spartans to be little more than robots; clearly Shepard's rather frosty attitude towards Nicole on the Collector ship had not escaped her attention. Shepard was silent for a moment, before shaking her head.

"We'll talk it over in my office," she said, before turning back to Alan. "Shouldn't be long before we reach the rendezvous now." With that, she beckoned Nicole over to the elevator and both women stepped inside. Alan sighed as the door closed, wondering if Nicole was about to undo the very fragile goodwill that he had tried to generate. Positive that Joker would inform him when they reached the rendezvous, he decided to head to the forward gun batteries. He knew that Garrus was in there, and felt that he needed to speak to a friendly face (as friendly-looking as the rigid, skull-like faces of Turians would allow, anyway). When he entered the chamber, he saw Garrus hunched over a control panel located behind a massive cannon.

"Oh, Tyler," said Garrus, when he saw the mutant enter. "Hell of a fight back on that Collector ship, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Alan sighed, walking closer to the gun and peering at it. "This ship's packing a lot of firepower now."

"Just got ourselves a new Thanix cannon," said Garrus, a hint of pride in his voice. "I pulled a few strings in the Turian military. Turns out they salvaged Sovereign's main gun on the sly and were able to reverse-engineer it into this. I've heard they're in talks with Saeder-Krupp to mass-produce these on Reach. It should give us enough firepower to rival a Sangheili cruiser, maybe even punch a few holes in that Collector ship." As he said this, he turned back towards the console, tapping away at the holographic keyboard. "That's if the damn thing can shoot straight. I'm sure someone messed up my calibrations while I was gone."

"Glad to hear somebody's getting ready for the Reapers, anyway," said Alan, though it was news to him that anybody was doing any kind of preparation at all. "From the way things have been going, you wouldn't think that the Reapers were already moving through Dark Space."

"You heard the Council after the Battle of the Citadel," scoffed Garrus. "They're trying to keep things going as normally as possible, something I'm sure is going to bite them in the ass. That's why I left C-Sec again; I got fed up with all that bureaucratic crap." He sighed. "I want to believe that we'll win, as long as Shepard's going. I mean, the Reapers killed her, and all it did was piss her off. With all the shit going on in the galaxy, though, I don't know if we're ready to take the Reapers in a straight fight."

There was a moment of silence between them both. Alan thought about what Garrus had said, and he was uncomfortably reminded of his own sense of foreboding about the galaxy's lack of preparation. He was sure that somebody had to be preparing; the Sangheili almost certainly would be, as well as smaller independent bodies that had seen the writing on the wall. However, after seeing what Sovereign could do at the Battle of the Citadel, he could not help but feel that their efforts would not be enough. Shepard could only do so much. Trying to make himself feel less uncomfortable, he decided to change the subject.

"On the Collector ship," he said, "you mentioned something about betrayal and attempted murder. What's the story there?" From the sound of an uncomfortable sigh, it seemed that Alan had touched a sensitive spot.

"I spent time on Omega," said Garrus, "with a team of vigilantes like myself. We shut down a lot of gang operations on the satellite, and we pissed off a lot of people. That didn't matter, as we thought we would be at the top of our game. We never suspected that one of our number would betray the others, send me in one direction while springing a trap for the rest of my team. Ten good men now lie in unmarked graves, and I want to make that son of a bitch Sidonis pay for what he did. You Earthlings have a saying; 'an eye for an eye'. A life for a life. He owes me ten lives, and I plan to collect."

"Huh..." Alan said, apparently unable to say anything else. He had an odd expression, as if he had just recognised Garrus.

"What is it?" asked the Turian.

"Just had a flash of déjà-vu there, that's all," said Alan. "My old crewman, José Lovano, approached me once saying something similar. He was after a Sangheili who had defected with Telek 'Heros during the Covenant War. That Sangheili betrayed Telek, sending José's ODST unit into a trap where they got butchered. The Sangheili didn't want to do it; the Prophet of Truth had threatened to have his family executed. He panicked, and that got a lot of people killed. He spent a long time on the run, obsessing over what he had done, guilt gnawing away at him constantly. He never forgave himself for what he had done. By the time José caught up to him, he'd punished himself so much for his crime that there was nothing left of him worth killing." He shook himself, checking the chronometer on his commlink. "Anyway, I should be getting ready to get back on my ship." He stepped around Garrus' console and walked towards the door.

"Tyler," said Garrus, just as Alan was about to step out. "I suspect I know where this is going, but what happened to that Sangheili?"

"He's now one of my crew," Alan said simply, shrugging before stepping out of the room, leaving Garrus to shake his head in disbelief.

0

Shepard and Nicole stepped out of the elevator and through another doorway into Shepard's cabin. It was a surprisingly large space, with a lot of home comforts added to it. There was an office space with a large desk and several models of ships on display in a large glass case, with a door leading off it that led to a small washroom. A large fishtank covered one of the walls, with the rest of the room containing a sofa, a small coffee table and a double bed. The room was at the very top of the ship, and above the bed was a window showing the stars above. It seemed clear that the private sector placed more of a value on comfort than efficiency, even though Nicole felt like it was nothing but window-dressing, as if they were trying to ply Shepard with fancy gifts.

"Have a seat," said Shepard, indicating the sofa. Nicole sat on one end of it, placing her helmet on the coffee table, but Shepard remained standing, her back turned to the Spartan.

"So, out with it," said Shepard, failing to disguise the same frosty tone she had used on the Collector ship. "What do you want to discuss?"

"Begging your pardon, ma'am," said Nicole, frowning, "but I don't care for your attitude right now, and I didn't care for it on the Collector ship. I've had a look through your personnel file. You've made it clear to your superior officers that you didn't care for Spartans, you'd even go so far as to request transfers away from units with a Spartan unless you had no choice. Begging your pardon, but what exactly is your problem with us, ma'am?"

"If you've read my file, you'll know exactly what my problem is," said Shepard, glancing back at Nicole with her eyes narrowed. "I saw a few Spartans in action during the Covenant War. Even back then I could tell that there was nothing... well, I wouldn't say 'nothing human', but definitely nothing that made them people left in them. They were cold, unempathetic, and obeyed their orders without question. I have no time for soldiers who can't think for themselves. I know military life can do that to a person sometimes, but this was beyond that. Until the truth of the Spartan program was made public, I couldn't explain it. Now I know how you were all made, and it sickens me that ONI would even contemplate such a thing."

"You and the rest of the galaxy," said Nicole in a rather snide tone. "You have any idea of the number of dirty looks I've gotten, especially from aliens, after Udina decided to expose the whole program? Every time I put this on," she continued, pointing at her own armour, "it's like I'm painting a big target on me. Nobody wants the Spartans around anymore. ONI loves us, but the rest of the galaxy hates us."

"Is that really so much of a shock?" asked Shepard in a bitter tone. "For Christ's sake, they kidnapped children and forced them to become soldiers." She spun around to look Nicole directly in the eye, a hard look in her eyes. "You were a child, not a war asset!"

"You make it sound like none of us wanted to go through with it," replied Nicole. "I don't claim to speak for the others, but I wanted to be a Spartan." She closed her eyes for a moment, a pained expression on her face. "I don't remember a lot about my childhood, but I do remember the Invae, how they tore my hometown and everyone in it apart..." Her voice began to break, and for the first time Shepard began to see emotion from a Spartan, something she thought that she would never see.

"Sure, I didn't have any choice in the matter," Nicole continued, "but I knew that I wanted what the Spartans had. They showed no fear. I felt so helpless when the Invae attacked, and I never wanted to feel that again. If I could become this invincible super-soldier, who felt no fear and no harm, then that would be worth any price." She paused for a moment, sighing. "For a while it seemed to work. I forcused on my job, and for a time, when I was fighting humans and the Covenant, everything seemed to be okay. When I went into Chicago though, the first time I met Alan, I learned that it hadn't worked like I'd hoped. Seeing the Invae again, hearing the voice of their leader again... I'm sure you know who he is. He's the same guy who made the Flood, and the Reapers."

"King Ghidorah..." Shepard muttered.

"That voice brought all of my old fears back," said Nicole. "Fighting the Collectors just now had the same effect. If I'd been sent out there to fight the Flood, or if I'd ever fought Sovereign, I probably would have gone the same way."

"You didn't fight the Flood?" asked Shepard. "I would have thought a Spartan would have been dispatched against them."

"Malcho made sure I was never sent to fight them," said Nicole. "I was part of a team that helped one of his cargo ships escape from the Covenant raid on Draco III. Afterwards he got a private meeting with me behind ONI's back, and he's been like a father to me ever since." She tilted her head back up to look at Shepard again. "If I'm not one of those robots you say all Spartans are, it's because of Malcho. He opened my eyes in ways you can't imagine, helped me to understand that my fear was nothing to be ashamed of. I work for Alan now, and I care about what happens to him and his crew, and all the time we were on the Collector ship I was afraid that I might lose him." She got to her feet, picking up her helmet, raising herself to her full height. "I'm surprised you weren't chosen to be a Spartan, yourself. You were the only survivor of the Kholo glassing when you were just ten years old. It would've been easy for ONI to fake your death and stick you on the program."

"Guess my genes weren't special enough," Shepard snorted. "I'd say I dodged a bullet." She walked back towards the main office desk, with Nicole following her. On it was a small picture-frame which switched on a holographic display as Shepard approached. It showed a picture of Kaidan's face, which Shepard looked at for a moment, an expression of sadness on her face.

"I couldn't stand the thought of not being able to give a damn," she continued. "It's thinking about the people I care about that keeps me going. ONI was wrong to think that being able to care was a hindrance that needed to be removed from their soldiers. There's a lot of strength in camaraderie... and empathy."

"But what about your fear?" asked Nicole. "Are you scared of the Collectors, or the Reapers?"

"Damn straight I'm scared," replied Shepard. "But that fear's going to keep me alive long enough to stab these bastards right through the heart." She turned to look back at Nicole, looking apologetic. "You're not like any other Spartan I've known. You're still able to give a damn; you showed that to me just now. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Both of them regarded each other silently for a moment, both of them feeling that no more needed to be said on the matter. Both felt as if they understood each other better. The silence was eventually broken by Joker's voice on the PA system.

"_Commander,"_ he said, _"we're approaching the rendezvous now. Serenity's already there. I'm taking us in for a landing."_

"Understood, Joker," Shepard replied, before turning back to Nicole. "Take care of Alan. He's going to need all the help he can get."

"He needs so much looking after," Nicole chuckled, as both women stepped back onto the elevator.


	14. To Boldy Go

**To Boldly Go...**

The rendezvous point was a small garden world on the borders of the Terminus Systems and the Attican Traverse. It was an uninhabited spot, not deemed important enough to be claimed by any settlers or corporations. The _Normandy_ landed on a large stretch of grassy plain, scant yards from where the _Serenity_ was already waiting, the cargo ramp lowered and most of the crew enjoying the chance to catch some fresh air. The _Normandy_'s own cargo ramp lowered. Nicole immediately walked down the ramp and headed towards the ship, while Alan hung back a bit to speak to Shepard.

"You going to give me another lecture about not trusting Cerberus?" asked Shepard, her arms folded and sounding impatient.

"No," Alan said, shaking his head. "I've said all I need to say on that matter. I just wanted to say that I know what you're up against now. For what it's worth, good luck."

Shepard nodded, and reached an arm out to shake Alan's claw. "Thanks, Captain," she said. "Be careful out there."

"Yeah," said Alan. "You too." With one last quick nod, Alan turned around and ran down the cargo ramp back towards the _Serenity_, the ship that he treasured so much. Shepard closed the cargo ramp on the _Normandy_ and the sleek vessel already began to lift off back into the sky as Alan sprinted back up the entry ramp and into the cargo bay. Nicole was almost finished with the process of extracting herself from her armour, and Alan proceeded to do the same while the rest of the crew stepped back onto the ship and closed the cargo ramp.

"Not a pleasant cruise, I take it?" asked Alistair, noticing Alan's gruff expression.

"Too bloody right," said Alan, depositing the pieces of his armour in the locker. "I don't think I've ever felt more uncomfortable on a different ship in my life. Even the months we spent as manual labour on the _Shadow of Darkness_ weren't this bad." As he placed the last of his armour in the locker he wiped sweat from his brow. "The crew seemed alright, but it all felt like a mask of some kind. I kept expecting people on there to throw away the smiles and reveal the fangs. Say what you will about Telek and his Sangheili, but at least they're honest."

"I'm sure Telek would appreciate that sentiment," said Alistair, smirking. "At least we know he's just being honest when he threatens to throw people out of an airlock."

Alan chuckled, and he and Alistair stepped back up to the gantries and headed towards the bridge. It seemed the rest of the crew had reached a silent agreement not to bother him with questions about the Collector ship, that he would answer such questions when he felt ready. He didn't see any of the others as they walked; he assumed that they were all in the common room or mess area.

"What was it you got all excited about?" he asked, as they walked up the corridor where the crew cabins were located.

"Like I said," said Alistair, "you'd have to see it to believe it. I can tell you how we found it, though. We've got Gillian to thank for it."

"What do you mean?" asked Alan.

"Her Technomancy began to play up again," replied Alistair. "She literally plugged herself into the ship, set off the FTL drive and put us on-course to what we thought was uncharted territory."

"And nobody tried to stop her?" asked Alan.

"Hey," said Alistair, holding his hands up and frowning, "none of us fancied getting blasted into atoms or disintegrated or turned into chipmunks or whatever Technomancers do to people who piss them off. I made the call, and I thought it best for everyone to just ride it out. You'd ordered us to evac anyway, so I don't see what difference it makes."

Unable to think of a good way to counter that argument, Alan shrugged and stepped onto the bridge, with Alistair quickly settling himself into the pilot's seat. Within minutes the ship was sailing up and through the atmosphere, back into the silence of space. The shaking of the ship and the sudden stillness once beyond the atmosphere were all familiar sensations to Alan by this point.

"Guess I'd better go see what she wants us to see, then," he sighed, turning towards Alistair. "What's she doing now?"

"In her cabin asleep, as far as I know," said Alistair. "Anyway, it's not too far from here; about an hour's worth of flight time in total." He turned in his chair and looked up at Alan with a sympathetic expression. "Why don't you go and get some sleep? You look absolutely buggered."

"Thanks for the diagnosis, doctor," Alan said, smirking, while failing to stifle a huge yawn. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he staggered back to his cabin, almost miscalculating where the ladder leading into it was placed and nearly falling into his cabin. As soon as his head hit the pillow on his bed, he knew no more.

0

_It looked so familiar to him, yet the sight should have been impossible. He remembered this place from his childhood. It was a long footpath that led from his hometown of Whitby, along the coast, at a distance of over 20 miles to the town of Scarborough. He used to go along this footpath every summer with his family, walking for six miles to the nearby village of Robin Hood's Bay. Part of the path, where he was standing right now, took place at the bottom of a small valley, the plants and trees growing out of both sides of it with the path running down the centre. It must have been the middle of autumn, as the tree branches were largely bare, with gold and brown leaves falling all around him, with the branches themselves crossing over each other like gothic archways. The sky was a leaden grey colour, but he could see a cyan light in the distance, further down the footpath. He felt drawn to it, curious about what might be in that light. He started to walk down the footpath, though his legs seemed to feel as if they had been filled with lead weights._

_All of a sudden there was a loud noise, like a monstrous foghorn, and the area around him was filled with a blazing red light. It was a horrible sound that seemed to drill right into his mind, the light so bright that it seemed to burn right into his eyes. As he watched, everything around him seemed to explode into fire. The intense heat seemed to press him down as, terrified, he ran down the path towards the light. As he ran, the horns sounded again and the light flashed behind him, as more of the path burst into flame. All the time he ran, he felt as if he was being toyed with, and that when he was on the verge of safety this mysterious fire would leap after him and strike him down. Smoke and ashes flew around him as the sky overhead seemed to glow with that red light. Every footstep was focused on doing nothing except getting to that distant cyan light; every fibre of his being told him that he would be safe when he reached it, but it did not seem to be getting any closer..._

0

Alan lurched awake, his face caked with sweat, out of breath and feeling as if he had run a marathon. What had that dream all being about? He tried to remember what had happened in it, but the memory was rapidly fading away. He held his forehead as he gasped, trying to bring his breathing back down to a manageable level. Wondering how long he had been asleep, he dragged himself off his bunk and staggered over to the sink. He was sure that he had not been asleep long, but he felt exhausted, and seeing his face in the mirror showed that he looked exhausted too.

He splashed cold water on his face, trying to wash the sweat off and stop himself from feeling so exhausted. Deciding that he wasn't going to get any more sleep, he sat back down on the bunk and tried to gather his thoughts. If he was really beginning to wake up like this, in shock and exhausted, then he began to worry that he was starting to crack up. The pressure of the upcoming war against the Reapers was undeniable, especially knowing that so little had been done to prepare, from what he could tell. It made him nauseous to think that for the past two years most of the races of the galaxy had apparently spent the time wishing the problem would go away, if they even knew about it at all. The Forerunners had given them all an advantage by helping them cut off the Reapers' surprise attack, but something kept telling him that it wasn't enough. He was beginning to feel that, if they were to stop King Ghidorah, they needed nothing short of a miracle...

"_Captain?"_ Alistair's voice suddenly said through him commlink. _"Captain, are you there?"_

"Huhn?" Alan grunted, shaking himself out of his distracted thoughts and raising his commlink. "Yeah, I'm awake, Alistair. What is it?"

"_We're approaching the destination now,"_ said Alistair. _"You might want to come up to the bridge."_

"Got it," Alan said, quickly signing off. He hoped he didn't sound too exhausted. His legs still felt like someone had filled them with lead as he climbed up out of the cabin and walked up to the bridge. As he entered, Alistair indicated towards the window.

"There," he said. "You see what I was telling you about having to see it to believe it?"

When Alan turned to look where Alistair was pointing, his eyes grew rounder. For there, floating serenely in the orbit of a large blue gas giant, was what looked like a huge gleaming silver ring, almost the same diameter as Earth. Around the inside of the ring Alan could see landmasses, oceans and cloud formations, complete with forests, lakes, rivers, mountains and deserts. He almost lost the feeling in his legs when he recognised what it was.

"A Halo?!" he breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yup," replied Alistair. "I've been going over the data that ONI has on the Halos. They've been working with the Council in keeping the Halos off of the official star charts, which was why we thought this place was uncharted. According to them this is Halo 01. Gillian must have pulled the coordinates out of that beacon we found and used them to get us here. I tried asking her what exactly's down there, but she doesn't seem to know herself. She only kept saying that we had to go down there." He cast an uneasy eye over towards the window. "I don't think she knows what these things are."

Alan knew all-too-well what the Halo installations were. There were originally seven known Halos, though one of them was destroyed during the Covenant War. They existed purely for the purposes of containment and sterilisation. During the Reapers' attack against the Forerunners in the previous Cycle of Extinction, the Forerunners tried to create a retrovirus that would attack and destroy King Ghidorah and his creations. However, the project had been sabotaged by indoctrinated agents of the Reapers, turning the virus against their people and creating the Flood, a parasitic race under King Ghidorah's control that gave him an extra means of consuming flesh and souls. To prevent the spread of the Flood, the Forerunners were forced to activate all of the Halos, wiping out all life within three radii of the galactic core. Some species had been saved by the Forerunners, while countless Forerunners had been harvested by the Reapers, many of which, as Alan now knew, had been indoctrinated and turned into the Collectors.

"I've been running surface scans on this thing," said Alistair, looking over several displays on the pilot's console. "Near as I can tell there's nothing living on there, but if this is like the other Halos and there are Flood on there that just means no silly bastard's released them yet." 

"That's no guarantee, mind," said Alan. "The Flood on Halo 05 had already been released; they just didn't come up to the surface." He sat down at the co-pilot's console, massaging his temples. "Telek knows about these places better than I do. I'd better give him a call." Even as he spoke he opened a channel to the _Shadow of Darkness_. A few seconds later, Telek's face emerged on one of the screens, looking surprisingly tired.

"_What is it, kid?"_ he asked, in a gruff manner.

"Telek," said Alan, "you're not gonna believe this, but we're at Halo 01 right now."

"_Halo 01?"_ said Telek, scratching his head. _"Why the hell would you be there?"_ Alan and Alistair looked at each other for a moment. Both were still unsure if they should be mentioning Gillian, even to Telek. After what Alan had heard on the _Normandy_, such information appeared to be particularly sensitive.

"We found a data cache," said Alan. "What we found in it indicated that there's something on that Halo that could help us. We only thought it right to go follow it up; we don't have many other leads to be going on."

"_Okay..."_ Telek drawled, arching an eyebrow. It was clear that he wasn't entirely convinced by Alan's explanation, and the mutant didn't blame him. _"Well, whatever's on there, you're not gonna get to it that easy. Have ya forgotten that the Council's got those things quarantined?"_

It was funny he should have said that, for Alistair cursed under his breath while looking at his console. "Speak of the bloody devil," he said. "We've got a couple of Turian cruisers on an intercept course. No doubt they wanna know what we're doing here."

"_Patch me through to 'em as soon as you're able,"_ grunted Telek. _"I've still got a few strings I can pull. Let me do the talkin'."_ There was a beeping noise coming from the pilot's console, and Alistair looked at Alan uneasily.

"That's them hailing us," he said.

"Alright, let's get this over with," Alan said. "Patch them through." Alistair did so, and Alan soon found himself staring at the skull-like face of a Turian captain. The skin was a dark brown and the face was covered in what liked blue tribal tattoos. The dark eyes regarded Alan carefully, giving the mutant the impression that his very soul was being peered into.

"_This is the Turian cruiser Gothis,"_ said the Turian. _"By orders of the Council this Forerunner artefact is under quarantine regulations. Deviate from your present course immediately or your vessel will be fired upon. You will not be given another warning."_

"_Gothis_," replied Alan as calmly as he could, "this is the Firefly-class transport ship _Serenity_. We're here on official business from the Orion Alliance. I'm patching you through to my superior officer now." Alan knew he was fibbing – the Alliance had no knowledge of what he was up to – but he hoped that whatever Telek had to say would be enough to get them off the hook.

"_Turian cruiser,"_ said Telek, taking his cue, _"I'm Telek 'Heros, Supreme Commander of the Sangheili Fleet Shadow of Fury. We have top-level security clearance courtesy of the Office of Naval Intelligence."_

"_If you truly rank so highly, Supreme Commander,"_ the Turian replied in a tone of barely-restrained hostility, _"then you know that the Forerunner artefacts known as the 'Halos' are under strict quarantine measures. We can't take any risk of the parasitic life-form known as the Flood escaping and spreading."_

"_If you're aware of the quarantine procedures, Captain,"_ replied Telek with a similar passive-aggressive tone, _"you'll know damn well that it was the Alliance embassy that set out the conditions of it in the first place. Under the regulations, all members of the Office of Naval Intelligence are to be given full co-operation in matters regarding the Halos. We've had more experience with the things; we know what to expect of them. The Council agreed to those regulations. With that in mind, ya might want to let my wingman down onto the Halo to conduct his investigation. Feel free to run all this by Councillor Anderson or Admiral Hackett if ya don't believe me. Have I made myself clear?"_

A moment of awkward silence followed, as the Turian turned away to say something to one of his companions off-screen. There was no doubt that they were already checking Telek's credentials, and after a few moments the Turian captain started looking indignant. Alan wondered how they were reacting to finding out that their authority had just been overridden. Finally, the Turian looked back at his monitor, looking decidedly irritated.

"_Serenity,"_ he said, _"you are authorised to land and conduct your investigation while we validate your clearance with the Office of Naval Intelligence. Should we detect any signs of Flood contamination on your ship, you will be shot down. Now proceed."_ With that, he signed off. Looking out of the window, Alan saw that two large Turian cruisers were now breaking off from their intercept course and starting to work their way back towards the Halo. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair.

"How long do you think it'll take them to realise that I'm not here on official ONI business?" he asked.

"_If Anderson and Hackett are even a tenth of the man Lord Hood was, they'll back you up,"_ said Telek. _"I still don't know what the hell you hope to gain by going down onto one of those things, but if ya think there's somethin' there worth lookin' into, I'm not gonna stop you."_

"What can you tell me about Halo 01?" asked Alan.

"_Not much,"_ replied Telek with a shrug. _"Never set foot on that Halo, myself. All the ones I went on were pretty much the same though, so I can't see this one being any different. Here..."_ He looked off-screen to manipulate his control panel, and instantly reams of information began to appear on Alan's monitors, including diagrams of the Halos. _"This is all I've got. It should give ya all ya need to know about the layout, security measures and Flood containment areas. Have ya got any humans on your crew?"_

"One," Alan said, referring to Nicole.

"_Good,"_ said Telek. _"They should be able to operate any controls that ya need to. Yer best bet to start is at the Library and get what information ya can from there. Ideally you'd have a Technomancer, but just make do with what you've got. Just don't go touching the Index Key; we don't wanna go wiping out that part of the galaxy before the Reapers even arrive."_

"I remember you telling me about that on Halo 05," Alan said, shaking his head. "I already got the message that I'm not supposed to touch anything."

"_I said the same thing to guys a lot smarter than you,"_ said Telek, a look of regret on his face for a moment, _"and they didn't listen."_ He sighed and then turned back to Alan. _"Just be careful down there, okay, kid? Let me know if ya find anything."_

"Roger, Telek," said Alan, giving a quick salute before he signed off and turned to look at the huge planet-sized ring floating serenely in the void. "Take us down there, Alistair, nice and easy."

"Roger," replied Alistair, his grip on the control stick tightening. "Let's just hope the Flood aren't in any mood to play."

0

Miranda had always felt confident. She didn't know if that was down to her genetic engineering, or just her own stubborn nature, but she never lacked for confidence. It was one of the reasons she had risen through Cerberus' ranks; a Technomancer who had proven herself to be resourceful and self-assured was a valuable asset to the organisation. She had taken pride in that.

Now, however, her doubts were threatening to cripple her. She couldn't believe her luck that Shepard had agreed to help her on a personal mission. Her little sister, Oriana, was in danger. Her father had finally tracked her down, hiring the Eclipse mercenary group to snatch her from her adopted family, and now Miranda was trying to step in to save her. Their biological father was a twisted, obsessive maniac, more concerned with creating a dynasty than being a family man. Miranda knew what it was like to grow up with him, and she didn't want that for Oriana. She had taken her sister away from him when she was only a child. In essence, she had kidnapped her own sister. She had initially hidden this fact from Shepard, but the Commander had been surprisingly supportive of her in spite of this, perhaps even partially because of it; Miranda couldn't say for sure. The only thing that was certain was the Commander was here now, and had helped her make her way through the cargo holding area of the spaceport on Illium. Together they had blasted their way through legions of Eclipse commandos of various species in their search for Oriana.

However, things had now become decidedly more complicated. After they had gunned down another squad of Eclipse commandos, a radio transmission had been intercepted from the squad leader. If it was to be believed, then they were working closely with a man named Niket. Miranda had been visibly shaken by this; Niket was not only her contact, but also her childhood friend and the only person she had trusted in this entire affair. The apparent news had visibly shaken her, and as she, Shepard and Tali entered one of the elevators she curled her fists, tensing up considerably as Shepard activated the elevator's control panel and began its ascent.

"Maybe the Captain knows we're listening in," she muttered, not sounding convinced, "and she's feeding misinformation about Niket making a switch. Or maybe it means something else... Niket wouldn't do that..." Finally, she snarled and punched the control panel, which somehow caused the cheery elevator music that had started playing to cut out. "Damnit! Why won't this thing go any faster?!"

"Did Niket know that you took Oriana from your father?" asked Tali.

"No," replied Miranda. "He just found out about that recently. It was too personal to involve someone else. I never really thought about it, but maybe..." She paused for a moment, hanging her head and wringing her hands. "No, he'd have to understand why I did it. He knows what I went through."

"What makes you so sure that Niket wouldn't turn on you?" asked Shepard.

"He could have turned on me when I ran away," Miranda scoffed. "I'm sure my father tried to buy him off. If he didn't do it then, why would he do it now?"

"You know him better than us, Miranda," said Shepard. "If you don't think he'd betray you, then I'm sure there's another explanation."

"I don't know, damn it!" Miranda snarled. "But I guess we'll find out soon enough, and then I'll have a word with this Captain Enyala."

While the trio had been talking, the elevator had reached its destination at Dock 94. As the door slid open, they stepped out to find three individuals close by. One was a human male with tanned skin and a thin moustache and beard. The other two were Asari, one of them dressed in an Eclipse uniform. Miranda assumed her to be Enyala, the leader of the Eclipse on this operation. The other Asari was likely to a spaceport official caught in the crossfire. Looking around, there were also several other Eclipse soldiers on-guard. As she recognised the human male to be Niket, apparently unharmed and willingly co-operating, she glared at him with a look of the highest revulsion.

"Miri..." Niket breathed, his eyes widening when he recognised her.

"This should be fun," said Enyala, jumping off the crate she was perched on and pulling out a huge Claymore shotgun. The Krogan weapon looked far too heavy for any Asari to use, but Enyala wielded it like a seasoned pro. Shepard, Miranda and Tali drew their own pistols and raised them toward the little group. Upon seeing the drawn weapons the unfortunate Asari civilian tried to run, but was shot in the back and cut down by one blast from the Claymore.

"Niket," said Miranda, saying the name as if it was something disgusting she was spitting out of her mouth. "You sold me out." Her expression turned from disgust to anguish. "Why? You were my friend. You helped me get away from my father."

"Yes, because you wanted to leave," replied Niket. "That was your choice! But if I'd known that you'd stolen a baby..."

"I didn't steal her!" Miranda snapped. "I rescued her!"

"From a life of wealth and happiness?" spat Niket, his shock giving way to anger. "You weren't saving her! You were getting back at your father!"

"How did Miranda's father turn you?" asked Shepard.

"They told me Miranda had kidnapped her baby sister years ago," said Niket. "They said I could help get her back peacefully. No trauma to the family." He turned to Miranda, his eyes narrowed. "I told them you'd never do that, that they could go to Hell. Then you finally told me what you'd done. I called them back that night."

"Why didn't you call me, Niket?" asked Miranda, her voice shaking. "We've been through a lot. You could have at least let me explain!"

"I deserved to know that you'd stolen your sister, Miri," Niket said looking bitter. "I deserved to know that you were with Cerberus. But I had to hear it from your father, first."

"How much did Miranda's father pay you?" spat Tali.

"A great deal," replied Niket.

"Damn it, Niket!" Miranda shouted, her gun-arm trembling. "You were the only one I trusted from that life!"

"He knew you felt that way," said Niket. "That's why he bought me."

"So you just took his money," Miranda hissed.

"Don't get holy with me, Miri!" snarled Niket. "You took his money for years!"

Shepard turned her attention to Enyala. "I knew Eclipse was willing to get its hands dirty," she said, "but kidnapping a kid?"

"I'm not stealing her," replied Enyala. "I'm rescuing her. Come on, Niket," she continued, turning to Niket. "Let's finish this bitch off and get outta here."

"Take your best shot," spat Miranda.

"I was just waiting for you to finish getting dressed," said Enyala, sneering. "Or does Cerberus really let you whore around in that outfit?"

"Look," Tali cut in. "I'm no fan of Miranda either, but whether you agree with her or not Oriana's been with her family for years now."

"Her father can still give her a better life," pleaded Niket.

"You don't know what my father wants for her," spat Miranda.

"I know that I've been poor, Miri," Niket retorted. "I didn't much care for it."

"He wants to take a girl away from the only family she's ever known," said Miranda. "Doesn't that tell you what he really is?"

"If you're working for Miranda's father," said Shepard, "that means he knows about Oriana. We need to find a new solution."

Niket looked away for a moment, looking nervous. It was as if he was facing some kind of internal struggle. Enyala just rolled her eyes.

"Miranda's father has no information about Oriana," Niket said, peering back at Miranda. "I knew you had spy programs in your father's systems, Miri, so I kept it private. I'm the only one who knows."

"Which means that you're the only loose end..." said Miranda, her eyes narrowed and her grip on her gun tightening. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket. I'm going to miss you..."

Just as she was about to squeeze the trigger, however, she felt something grip her arm and point the gun away. Turning to look, she saw that it was Shepard who was stopping her from firing. Miranda tried to shake her arm loose, but Shepard's grip was too tight.

"Miranda, wait!" she said. "You don't want to do this!"

"This has to end here, Shepard!" said Miranda, wrenching her arm free. "My father will keep trying to find Oriana!"

"Maybe Niket can help," said Shepard. "He can talk to your father, say you got here first..." Both women looked over at Niket, who now looked very awkward.

"I'll..." he stammered. "I'll tell him that you hid her. That I don't know where she is." At first, Shepard thought that Miranda was going to try to kill him again, but instead she leaned toward him, pointing accusingly, a look of pure disgust on her face.

"I never want to see you again, Nik-" she snarled, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud gunshot. Niket's body was blasted forward, and he fell to the floor, dead. Standing over him was Enyala, the barrel of her shotgun smoking.

"Done," said the Asari, completely unrepentant. "Now if you don't mind, I have a shipment to deliver."

At this, something in Miranda's mind snapped. Using her free hand, she pulled out her Technomantic cords and shot them straight at Enyala. The Asari raised her shotgun to fire, but the cords wrapped themselves around her arms, prising them apart and causing her to lose her grip on the weapon. Even before it hit the floor they pulled her arms apart and lifted her twenty feet off the ground. Paralysed with shock, Enyala didn't say a word as she was suspended there, looking like she was being crucified, the wispy cyan cords beginning to splinter and spread, attaching themselves to various parts of her body. The Eclipse guards were too surprised by what was going on to react.

"You'll die for that, you bitch!" Miranda shouted, the glow on her cords becoming more intense. Enyala seemed to vibrate, her entire body shaking, though what she was experiencing had to have been painful as a look of the purest torture was lining her face. She gave an agonised, ear-splitting scream, and all of a sudden she disintegrated. In a split second she had been reduced to nothing more than a red mist and a faint echo.

It took a few moments for the rest of the Eclipse guards to get over their shock long enough to fire at the group. Shepard and Tali dived for cover while Miranda's cords spread in front of her, creating a shield that deflected the gunfire. No matter what the mercenaries tried they could not break through the Technomantic shielding. The gunfight that followed was a rather one-sided affair, and within minutes Shepard and Tali had dropped the remainder of the Eclipse. Miranda didn't retract the cords until she was sure that every last Eclipse member was dead. When they were gone, she strode over the bodies straight to the elevator at the back of the room without giving them a second look, Shepard and Tali running to catch up. This elevator led all the way back up to the terminals in the spaceport itself. As Miranda stepped inside her initially stony expression finally gave way to one of anguish, as if the shock of what had just happened was finally catching up to her.

"I can't believe Niket sold me out," she said, her head hanging as Shepard activated the elevator and it started to ride smoothly upwards. "I didn't even see it coming."

"Even with all your upgrades and Technomancy," said Shepard simply, "you're human just like the rest of us."

"But I let it get personal," said Miranda, holding a hand up to her head, her back turned to Shepard. "I screwed up. Why didn't you let me kill him? I could have handled that, but watching him get gunned down by that Asari bitch..."

"You still cared for him," said Shepard, "even if he betrayed you."

"You're right," said Miranda, her body shaking. "And my father knew it. He used that against me." She paused for a moment, releasing a sigh and turning back to Shepard with a hardened expression. "It's always been like this. My father gave me anything I ever wanted, but there was always a hook, an angle for his long-term plan. I threw away everything he ever gave me when I ran. Except Niket. Weakness on my part."

"Any other old friends your father might use against you?" asked Tali.

"No," replied Miranda. "I cut ties with everyone else. Anyone I'm close to now works for Cerberus... or Shepard. My father's powerful, but he won't cross the Illusive Man."

"You can't toss aside everything you care about just to be safe," said Shepard, looking reproachful.

"It's okay, Shepard," said Miranda, with a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "My father hurt me, but he didn't break me. As much as he tried to turn me into exactly what he wanted, I'm my own person."

"And you still have Oriana," Shepard chimed in, but was slightly taken aback when Miranda's expression hardened again.

"My father didn't give her to me," said Miranda. "I rescued her." At this her expression softened again. "But... yes, you're right. I still have something. Thank you... both of you," she finished, looking in Tali's direction as well. The Quarian tilted her head, apparently unsure what to think of this new side of Miranda that both she and Shepard were seeing.

As soon as the group were back in the spaceport itself, they did a sweep of the area itself to make sure no-one else was looking for them. Eventually Miranda met with Shepard back at one of the terminals.

"No sign of Eclipse," she said. "It looks like we're clear."

"Tali," said Shepard into her commlink. "You spot any sign of Eclipse?"

"_Nothing, Shepard,"_ was Tali's reply. _"I'll head back to the Normandy and tell Joker to get ready for departure. I'll see you both back on board."_

Shepard looked over at Miranda, who was peering at a young woman a short distance away with short dark hair, in conversation with an older couple. Miranda had a pained expression on her face, and Shepard began to understand that she was looking at Oriana.

"There she is..." said Miranda softly. "She's safe... with her family..." Her eyes closed for a moment and she hung her head, regret filling every line of her face. After a few moments of silence, she shook herself and turned back to Shepard. "Come on. We should go."

Shepard peered at Miranda for a moment, looking puzzled. "Don't you even want to say hello?" she asked.

"It's not about what I want," replied Miranda, shaking her head. "It's about what's right for her. The less she knows about me, the better. She's got a family. A life. I'd just complicate that for her."

"She doesn't need any details," said Shepard, "but would it really be so bad for her to know she has a sister who loves her?" The two women looked at each other for a moment. Then, for the first time, Miranda smiled. It was not the usual snide sneer that she usually used, but a genuine, warm smile. She looked like a completely different person to Shepard in that moment. On the ship, Miranda had got the nickname of the 'Ice Queen'. Now it looked as if the ice was starting to melt.

"I guess not..." Miranda finally said, looking back towards Oriana.

"Go on," said Shepard. "I'll wait here."

Miranda nodded, and walked over to Oriana and her family. Perhaps she was imagining it, but the look on Oriana's face was almost one of recognition. They both looked alike in many ways. Though the introductions were initially awkward, and Oriana was certainly surprised to know that she had a sister, the conversation became much more natural afterwards. Both women learned that they shared a love of music, and that both were particular fans of the adagio movement of Nielsen's Fifth Symphony. The talk went on for a good fifteen minutes, and by the time it was over Miranda felt as if she had been cleansed somehow, as if she had just stepped out of a long shower. Perhaps she and Oriana could finally put their father behind them now. Most importantly, in light of the dangers that lay before her, she felt as if, for the first time in many years, she had something worth fighting for.


	15. Trespassers

**Trespassers**

Every time the _Serenity_ shook as it descended through an atmosphere, Alan couldn't help feeling a shiver of excitement. He had every reason to dread landing on a Halo; if the Flood were loose on it and contaminated the ship, there was no telling how quickly they would spread throughout the galaxy, and the war against the Reapers would be over before it even started. However, the thought of exploring the Halo, finding out what was so important about it that Gillian led them there, brought back feelings of child-like excited curiosity to him, just like how he used to feel whenever he chased the giant monsters in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. His conflicting emotions of apprehension and excitement filled him as the ship touched down near a large, angular grey structure near a large lake. As the ship touched down, Alan told everyone to gather in the cargo bay, telling Nicole in-particular to get suited up.

When he entered the cargo bay himself, stepping down the gantries and heading towards his locker, he was surprised to see Gillian there with the rest of the crew. Normally she stayed in her cabin, not speaking to anyone. Now, however, she was there with the rest of them, though still maintaining a short distance from them, leaning on the supply crates. What also unnerved Alan slightly was how calm she looked; while the others looked incredibly apprehensive, Gillian just looked politely curious. He crossed over to his own locker and began to attach his combat armour, turning to address the others as he did so.

"Right," he said, "here's what we're gonna do. Nicole and I are gonna head out there and see what we can find. There's got to be a reason we've been led here, and whatever it is it'd better be worth the risk we're taking here."

"Too bloody right," said Alistair. "I've not forgotten having to run my arse off away from the Flood. Those guys are faster than they look." As soon as Alan and Nicole were ready for battle, Alistair lowered the cargo ramp, turning to address Alan while Nicole kept her rifle pointed out at the plain below. "How exactly are you going to know what to look for their, though? Only one person knows why we're here, and I doubt she'll start talking." He nudged his thumb towards Gillian, who was now approaching the cargo ramp. Call and Dorva looked apprehensive, but didn't dare approach her in case they made her panic.

"I know," said Alan. "That's why she's going with us." At this Alistair went boggle-eyed, while Call and Dorva looked at each other in utter disbelief. Nicole spun around and pulled off her helmet, looking furious.

"Begging your pardon, Captain," she snarled, "but fuck off! She's not a fighter, she's had no combat training! She has no idea what the Flood are! What the hell are you thinking risking her neck like this?!"

"I'm thinking that she's the only one that can get us to where we need to be safely," Alan said, folding his arms. "Alistair's right; she's the only one who knows what we're looking for. Without that, we could very well end up setting off the Halo and killing everyone in this part of the galaxy." Nicole threw up her arms in surrender, still looking furious as she went back to keeping an eye on the terrain outside. Alan sighed and approached Gillian, who looked back at him with a blank expression. She seemed to be the only person who didn't look like she was judging him.

"Gillian," he said, about to put a hand on her shoulder but retracting it when he saw her flinch slightly, "do you understand what was said just now? Whatever it is here that you want to show us, you're the only one who can lead us to it. I know this is a lot to ask of you, considering you've only known us a few days, but I need you to trust us and help us. The work we're doing is of unimaginable importance to the galaxy. If whatever you've found out can help us, then we need to know about it. The chances of our success against the Reapers might depend on it. I know it's a lot to put on your shoulders, but I'm asking... no, I'm begging you to trust us. Can you do that?"

Gillian looked at him for a full ten seconds. It was difficult to read her expression or tell if she was mulling things over; she just had that same blank, slightly eerie expression. However, she eventually nodded.

"Thank you," said Alan, bowing his head before turning back to the others. "The rest of you stay here and keep an eye on the ship. Keep the scanners running for any life-signs, and keep the engines hot."

"No problem, Captain," said Alistair. "They'll be nice and toasty. I've no intention of letting the Flood catch me with my trousers down."

Alan looked back over at Nicole, who still looked very uneasy. She kept glancing between Alan and Gillian. Eventually she just shook her head, placed her helmet back on, and led the way down the cargo ramp, stepping onto the grass. Alan motioned for Gillian to follow him, and she did so. As soon as they were outside the cargo ramp closed, Alan catching one last look at his crew's anxious faces. He motioned for Nicole and Gillian to follow him, and soon all three were moving carefully across the grassy plain, tense and alert.

Alan still couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the Halos. In the distance the landmass curved upwards for thousands of miles, arched over their heads and then smoothly curved behind them. It formed a perfect circle, every inch of it visible from the surface. He remembered once asking Telek why the Forerunners would bother to make something so beautiful if it was only intended to be a method of sterilisation. The answer he had received was that the rings were intended to look innocent so that nobody would go interfering with them. Above the group strange alien birds flew, without any cares in the world. Knowing the threat that the galaxy suggested, Alan couldn't help but envy them slightly. The long walk took the trio across an energy bridge that separated the Library from the mainland. Soon the enormous octagonal angled dome with its flying buttresses loomed over them. In front of them were a closed door and a floating gondola waiting at a dock.

"All aboard," said Alan, indicating the gondola. The trio stepped on to the transport, and Alan pointed at a small blue holographic control panel. "If I remember right, only humans can use the tech here. Nicole, you'd better work this. Just wave your hand over it, and we'll ride right in there."

Nicole nodded, repeating Alan's instructions. Instantly the doors opened, and Nicole gave a small yelp as the gondola jerked forward, moving into a tunnel on the opposite side of the door. Looking behind him, Alan saw the doors leading back outside close.

"No turning back now," he said, looking at his companions, Gillian in-particular. "Stay close to us, Gillian. No telling what kind of dangers we'll find in there."

Gillian just nodded, still looking as if she was merely on a very interesting day out. Just then, Nicole gasped and raised her rifle. Alan spun round to see where she was looking. Above them, he could now see several robotic drones flying about. Each one was about eight feet long and resembled an ornamental cannon made out of silver-grey metal, with two arm-like appendages and a large gun on the underside. Every once in a while they seemed to turn to face the gondola, a blue light in the centre of each peering at the travellers like an eye.

"Lower your weapons," said Alan, placing a claw on the barrel of Nicole's guns. "They'll ignore us until they consider us a threat."

"What are they?" asked Nicole, slowly lowering her rifle but still looking in the direction of the robots.

"They are Sentinels," said Gillian unexpectedly and in that familiar monotone. "They are ancient, Forerunner-constructed robots. They possess limited artificial intelligence, and are programmed to suppress Flood outbreaks and protect Forerunner technologies."

"How do you know that?" asked Nicole.

"Probably pulled it out of that beacon we found," said Alan, shrugging. Nicole just shook her head.

"I just can't believe that another person who hasn't been on these things before still knows more about them than me," she said.

"You never went on to one of the Halos?" asked Alan.

"No," replied Nicole. "From the sounds of it, I'm going to be the only one who's completely in the dark."

"We'll get the light shining in there soon enough," said Alan dryly, as the gondola continued to move towards its destination. After what felt like too long for Alan's liking, it slowed and came to a complete stop. It latched onto its moorings at the dock and the gangplank lowered, allowing them to step off. Alan motioned for everyone to follow him. Within minutes they came to an enormous door, nearly sixty feet tall and forty feet wide. Nicole moved up to push on it, but it wouldn't budge an inch.

"Save your energy, Nicole," said Alan, before turning to Gillian. "The way to unlock that door is right up at the top," he said, pointing at a small control panel in the centre above the door. "Can you use your Technomancy to unlock it?" Gillian just peered at him for a moment with that same blank look, until Alan added "Please?"

"That's better," said Gillian, as she reached up to pull the glowing cords out from the back of her head. She let them drape around her fingers for a few seconds, before they suddenly elongated, stretching all the way to the control panel above the door. Each of the cilia strands parted, and after a few seconds the door was unlocked and began to slowly open.

"At least Gillian understands what manners are," said Nicole, her face looking in Alan's direction.

"Ah, shaddap," replied Alan, unable to think of a more intelligent rebuttal. He couldn't see Nicole's face behind the reflective visor, but he was sure that she was grinning at him. The group stepped through the enormous doorway and into what seemed to be a long string of corridors, with large walls on either side of them which still did not stretch to the incredibly high ceiling. They continued down the corridors for several minutes, with nothing to impede their trek.

"You know, I think I know why the Forerunners made all their structures the same," Alan groaned, after a while. "They must have known that intruders would get bored by the repetition and leave."

"What exactly are we looking for here, anyway?" asked Nicole.

"A terminal that Gillian can plug into," said Alan. He looked over at Gillian, whose cords were still out and were now stretching towards the walls. It was then that Alan froze in his tracks, slapping his helmet-covered forehead. "God, how could I be so stupid?!"

"Pardon?" asked Nicole.

"Last time I was here," Alan explained, "Davis was able to plug into any one of these walls and get the information then. We've been walking about for no reason whatsoever! Gillian can just pick a wall! How could I have forgotten that?!"

"Well, it has been a long time since you were last on a Halo," said Nicole, shrugging.

"Seven years, four months, and twelve days, to be exact," Gillian chimed in. Alan noticed that she looked unusually calm now that the cords were out; back on the _Serenity_ she started to noticeably shiver if she took so much as a step outside her cabin. He started to wonder if her Technomancy somehow affected her autism. It was also no surprise that she had been able to recall exactly how long since he had been on a Halo; the data probably came to her as soon as the thought had crossed her mind.

"Uh..." Alan said, looking awkward for a moment. "Are you actually connected to the Library's records now, Gillian?"

"Yes," replied Gillian.

"Can you please find out how many of the Flood are on this installation?" asked Alan.

"Of course," replied Gillian, as if Alan was addressing a VI. The cords stretched and splintered until they attached to the walls, as if Gillian had somehow become a living tree with glowing blue branches. Alan turned to address Nicole.

"Stay sharp while she gets the data," he said. "You can usually smell the Flood before you see them. They smell like the kind of public toilet that nobody seems to bother cleaning. Oh, and watch out for the Monitor."

"The Monitor?" asked Nicole.

"It looks like a big metal ball with lights on it," said Alan. "It's the custodian of the Halo, and the Sentinels might have alerted it to our presence. If you see it, don't shoot it; we don't want to give it a reason to be mad with us."

For a moment, Nicole didn't respond, looking at a spot somewhere above Alan's head. "A big metal ball with lights, you say?" she said.

"Yeah," Alan nodded.

"Like that one?" asked Nicole, sounding nervous, pointing behind Alan. He turned to look where she was pointing, and saw, floating close to the ceiling, a spherical metal construct, with a single blue light built into it that seemed to regard them like an eye. There was no telling how long it had been up there, observing the trio. Upon noticing that it had been spotted, it floated down towards them, humming a merry tune. It's blue central optical unit regarded each person in turn before it spoke in a rather chirpy male voice:

"Ah, hello! I am 10 Sorrowful Dream, and I am the Monitor of Installation 01." As the others failed to respond, Alan and Nicole with identical expressions of surprise, he peered at each person again. "I see there are two Reclaimers here, one of whom can perform an Array Connection! Excellent! Now you may begin to assist with research into Flood containment and removal procedures!"

"That's not gonna happen," said Alan quickly. "We're not here about the Flood. We're here about the Reapers. The Array showed us this location. There has to be something here that can help us beat them."

Dream just peered at him in silence for several seconds, the focus of his blue optic shifting as if moving eyebrows. Then he finally said, "I have no information on Reapers, other than as a term used in theories on galactic extinction cycles."

"Vigil warned me about this..." Alan groaned at Nicole. "This guy must have deleted his data on the Reapers when he thought they were no longer a threat." He then turned back to Dream. "Listen. Your priorities need to change. The Reapers are on their way back, and they plan to kill us all! If they manage to wipe us all out then there'll be no-one around to contain the Flood!"

"B-b-but the Flood must be contained!" Dream protested. "It is the task that my creators assigned to their inheritors, the Reclaimers!"

"There is no Flood on this Installation," Gillian suddenly said, in that same monotone, still connected to the Array. Dream peered at her.

"What did you say?" the Monitor asked, though his tone indicated that he knew precisely what she had said.

"I said that there is no Flood on the Installation," said Gillian. "You have a prisoner in the containment area that we must speak to."

"Prisoner?" asked Alan, taken aback. "Who are you talking about? Is that what you led us out here for?" Gillian only turned slowly to Alan and nodded in reply. Before Alan could ask any more questions, however, Dream cut across him.

"Y-y-you intend to open communications with the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor?!" he gasped in shock. Gillian only nodded in reply. At this, Dream began to shake violently, his optics slowly turning from a blue light to a red one. Then, without warning, a blast of red energy erupted from the optic and hit Gillian in the chest, sending her flying back several feet. She did not appear to be wounded by the blast, but she was evidently knocked out cold, as the glowing cyan cords suddenly retracted back into the back of her head.

"Gillian!" shouted Nicole, running over to help, only to be struck and knocked away by another blast from Dream.

"Unacceptable!" the Monitor shrieked as Nicole hit the floor. "Unacceptable! Absolutely unacceptable!"

"What the fuck are you doing?!" shouted Alan, pulling out his weapons and pointing it at the Monitor. 

"Stay your distance, mutant!" shouted Dream. "Protocols dictate action! The Prisoner must be kept under guard!"

"Right now, I don't fucking care!" Alan retorted. "You just attacked my crew, and I don't take kindly to that!" Without another word he fired several rounds at Dream, striking him several times. His shielding absorbed most of the shots, and he spun around before firing another concussive blast, hitting Alan's hand. The mutant yelled in pain and was forced to let go of his weapon.

"My creators knew to put upstarts like you in your place, mutant!" yelled Dream. Suddenly there was a loud whirring noise coming from overhead, and Alan saw several Sentinels approaching, the cannons at their bases glowing as they charged. Nicole was struggling back to her feet while Alan pulled out the handle of his whip.

"Grab Gillian and let's go!" he shouted, but before either of them could move the Sentinels' lasers fired, bearing on both of them. Both Alan and Nicole cried out as the lasers tore through their shielding, now striking and burning their armour. Both were pinned to the floor by the forceful impact, the searing hot lasers pounding into them relentlessly. In the end, both collapsed unconscious, unable to take any more pain. Before Alan blacked out, he heard Dream speaking one last time:

"Do not kill them yet. Take them to the containment area, and bind the Technomancer's hands. They will be interrogated later."

0

Several hours later, Alistair was still in the cockpit of the _Serenity_, watching the monitors carefully. He had been running every type of scan that he could think of, but with no results; as far as the scanners knew, the _Serenity_ crew were the only organic life-forms on the planet, aside from the odd alien bird. Unless the Forerunners used some kind of jamming technology over any Flood containment areas, he found it odd that nothing had been picked up on the scanners. Behind him, Call was pacing back and forth, a worried expression on her face. The constant sound of her footsteps and faint murmuring was now beginning to get on Alistair's nerves, and he suddenly turned to her with a frustrated expression.

"Can't you bloody well sit down?!" he barked. "You'll wear a hole through the floor if you keep pacing like that!"

"I can't help it," replied Call, stopping a moment to peer out of the window as its orbit took it to the far side of the planet and night began to fall. "They've been gone too long. Something's happened to them."

"I agree, Call," said Alistair, "but pacing around fretting about it isn't going to help. I'm trying to think..." At this he returned to the monitors, seeing a blip on one of the schematics he had brought up of the Halo. "I've got a fix on Alan's commlink, but the signal's very faint. He's not answering any hailing, either. I think we'd better get after him, but I can't see how we're gonna do it."

"Did I hear right?" a voice suddenly said from the doorway. Dorva stood there for a moment before his huge frame walked over to the pilot's console. "We are going after the Shipmaster?"

"You got that bloody right," said Alistair, his eyes narrowed.

"There may be Flood on this Halo!" barked Dorva. "You know that we cannot risk contamination!"

"Bugger if I care right now!" spat Alistair. "No-one gets left behind!"

"Be that as it may," Call chimed in, "all the technology here needs a human or a Technomancer to operate it. In case you haven't noticed, none of us tick either box! How are we supposed to even get inside the facilities?"

"There's got to be a way in," Alistair snarled. "Saren was able to get into the Shield Installation on Ilos, and I'm willing to bet he wasn't a Technomancer."

"Yes," said Dorva, shaking his head, "but he had the Cipher in his mind. That would have allowed him to interface with Forerunner technology." Alistair's only reply was a low, frustrated snarl. That was indeed an obstacle that he could not see any way around. Only Forerunners and Reclaimers could use the technology, as well as any Technomancers. Without being any of those, their chances of getting anywhere on the Halo were almost non-existent. Even as he watched the monitors he saw that Alan's signal was getting fainter, showing that he was slipping out of their range.

Dorva too peered at the schematics of the Halo. He had never set foot on a Halo before, though he remembered that Telek had set foot on some of the other installations. Apparently they were all very alike, and Telek had to have gotten deeper inside somehow... With a start, he moved over to the co-pilot's console and began to activate the communications array.

"Who are you calling at a time like this?" asked Call.

Her question was soon answered when Telek's face appeared on the screen. At first he looked puzzled, then his mandibles twisted into a grimace when he saw it was Dorva who had contacted him. It occurred to Alistair that Dorva and Telek had never actually spoken; the Supreme Commander resented Dorva after his own cowardice had gotten a squad of ODSTs killed and Telek in a lot of trouble.

"_Get the fuck outta my comm. channels, ya lowlife,"_ he snarled. _"I've got nothin' to say to you."_

"Telek, listen to me!" barked Dorva. "Alan hasn't reported in for several hours, and we're losing his commlink signal! He's been taken deeper inside the Halo! We've got to get in after him, but none of us can use Forerunner technology. Is there any other way inside?"

"_Shit..."_ muttered Telek, looking furious. _"I should have known this would happen. Those damn things are Flood nests... What the hell are you all waitin' for then? Get off that Halo now! You know that we can't risk the whole galaxy getting infected!"_

"We're not leaving without the Shipmaster!" barked Dorva. "Even if the Flood is around, the _Serenity_'s not much of a prize. If the worst comes to the worst, the Turians can handle it, but you've got to help us! You know more about the Halos than anyone else alive, and you must know a way that we can bypass their systems!"

"_And why would I wanna say anything to you, ya sack of shit?"_ snarled Telek, his eyes narrowed. _"Any of the others know about this? Y'all wantin' to make me mad?! Well, it's damn well workin'!"_

"Telek, this is not the time!" barked Dorva, banging his fist against the console. "What I did to you, to the fleet, was... unforgiveable, but now is not the time for our history to interfere in these matters! Our comrades, our brothers-in-arms, need our help right now. Are you really willing to let them die for the sake of your honour?"

"_Don't you talk to me about honour..."_ Telek snarled, looking murderous. As far as he was concerned, Dorva was a dark stain on the fleet's honour, one which he had been deprived any opportunity to rid the fleet of. It was why things were so tense between him and the _Serenity_ crew these days; the last two years had done nothing to heal the old wounds. He removed his helmet, scratching his head before turning back to Dorva again. The expression on his face was still one of disgust.

"_If ya wanna get into the Halo,"_ he said gruffly, _"your best chance is the maintenance tunnels. They're under the surface and stretch all over the Halo. They should take ya anywhere, providin' this Halo's just like the rest. The nearest access point to the Library would be several miles away. It'd take anyone on foot several days to get through those tunnels to the containment areas, but if Alan's pissed off the Monitor that's where he'll be. That's also where the Flood will be though if they're still contained, so don't go screwin' around with anything. If they're already released, then you're on yer own, and you'll be prayin' that the Turians blow the crap outta ya before ya get to spread the Flood everywhere."_ As he spoke, the schematics on the other screen became updated, showing a point about a hundred miles away from the Library. That had to be the access point he had mentioned. With any luck they would be able to enter it.

"Thanks..." Dorva began, but Telek quickly signed off as soon as the data was transferred, leaving Dorva to just breathe "Your Excellency."

"Christ, I could feel the frost from here," said Alistair. "He really doesn't like you, not that I blame him."

"I've long stopped caring what he thinks about me," said Dorva firmly. "All that matters to me right now is that our comrades... our friends... are safe."

"You won't hear any argument from me, mate," replied Alistair, raising his claws in surrender. He turned to his console and brought up the updated schematics. "So Telek reckons we can get anywhere on the Halo through those tunnels, does he?"

"That's what he said," said Dorva. "He mentioned it would take several days to get from there to the containment areas."

"Yeah, we all heard him," said Call. "You'd better pack enough rations to last a long time, then. Just don't go daft with them. I'd rather you two didn't starve to death."

"I dunno," said Alistair, chuckling. "Maybe being all skin and bone will make us less appetising to the Flood." Ignoring the frown on Call's face he continued, "You sort out the rations then. Oh, and unpack the BFG from down in the cargo bay. I've the feeling we're gonna need it."

"The BFG?" asked Call, arching an eyebrow.

"You can probably guess what it stands for when you see it," said Alistair. "Right then," he continued, clapping his hands together before grasping the controls, the engines whirring to life as he did so. "Let's go get our shipmates back."

0

_A few days later_

Shepard grabbed her meal-tray and proceeded across the _Normandy_'s mess hall to the large table. The meal was said to be some kind of variant on a Mexican burrito, and she hoped that the Mess Sergeant Gardner was making good use of the new ingredient supply she had got for him. She pulled up a chair next to Jacob and across from Garrus, who were already tucking into other meals. Jacob seemed to be eating a Caesar salad, while Garrus' rations were indistinguishable.

"I'm surprised Gardner managed to get dextro-friendly rations," said Garrus. Life-forms with dextro-amino acids could not eat the same food as other life-forms; Turians and Quarians were the only sentient dextro-protein life-forms. "The man's a genius. An evil one, but a genius, nonetheless."

Jacob only made an indistinct grunt in reply. He seemed to be playing with his food, constantly spilling it off his fork with a distracted expression on his face. Shepard turned to him.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Uhn?" Jacob grunted, before shaking himself. "Oh, nothing, Commander."

"Talk to me, Jacob," said Shepard. "You've got a little black rain cloud sitting over your head."

"I'll try to keep the floor dry," chuckled Jacob. "Just thinking about what happened on Aeia. I know it was a few days ago, but I guess the memories never leave you. Seeing what my dad to all those people... It just makes ya think of what people will do to survive, is all."

"Tell me about it," said Garrus. "What Sidonis did to my squad for the sake of his own survival..." He shook his head. "Well, what's done is done. I heard on the newsfeed that he turned himself in to C-Sec. I guess there's hope for him yet, which I would have snuffed out if I'd killed him..."

"Wish I could say the same about my dad," said Jacob darkly, piercing salad leaves with his fork in a rather vicious manner. "I know we threw him to the UNSC courts, but the man who did what he did has no conscience. Doesn't matter how many years he has in prison to think about it." He sighed. "I know I can't dwell on it, though. I'm just glad I had a chance to put that issue behind me."

Jacob's father, Ronald Taylor, had disappeared, along with the ship he was serving on, the _UNSC Strontium Mule_, eight years ago. It had been assumed that the ship and her crew had been destroyed by the Covenant, but they had managed to crash-land on the planet Aeia and survive there. In order to do so, however, the crew had had to eat toxic food on the planet that reduced their brain function, particularly affecting their memory. Taylor, as the acting captain, the real captain having been killed in the crash, decided that the officers had kept the uncontaminated rations for themselves. It had seemed like the right call; if everyone had succumbed to the toxic food there would be nobody left to organise things and repair the emergency beacon. However, Taylor had abused the rights granted to him, banishing the men and using the women as his own personal harem. When the other officers had objected he had either banished or killed them. His crimes disgusted Jacob, and his father was only fortunate that Jacob didn't think he was worth killing.

"Seems to be a common trend among this crew," said Garrus. "We've all got our own baggage." He turned to Shepard. "You made the right call on putting off grabbing that IFF. Everyone's got to get all the weight off their minds before we even think about taking on the Collectors." He leaned across to look towards the starboard observation room. "Talking of which, I heard about what happened on Omega. Is Samara okay?"

"Not as far as I know," said Shepard. "She doesn't like to show it, but I could tell that she's hurting, so I suggest giving her some space for a while. I think I would be upset too if I just killed my daughter, who also happened to be a murderous sociopath."

"From what I heard," said Garrus, "You almost ended up as her next victim."

"The reports of me being brainwashed by Morinth are greatly exaggerated," said Shepard, smirking. "You already know that Asari aren't my type."

"And here was me thinking they were everyone's type," chuckled Garrus. "Just don't tell Liara I said that if you see her again. I'm not sure I can get used to this new tough information broker side of her."

While they were talking, Thane had joined them at their table, apparently bringing his own rations with him. The others looked rather surprised to see him, and upon noticing this an awkward expression flitted across his large dark eyes.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked.

"No, not at all," said Jacob jovially. "We're just not used to seeing you here. I thought you took all your meals in your cabin?"

"Normally I do," replied Thane. "I was encouraged to mingle with the crew some more." He gave a meaningful look at Shepard before turning back to the others. "I'm not used to working with others, so forgive me if I'm somewhat rusty at socialising."

"Don't worry about it," said Shepard. "Have you heard anything about your son?"

"Kolyat?" said Thane. "Yes, Captain Bailey sent me a message. He's continuing to push for Kolyat's sentence to be reduced to community service. He even seems to be having some success. If nothing else, it sounds like your intervention forced Jorum Talid to re-evaluate his anti-human policies."

"The kid tries to assassinate a prospective politician, and only gets community service for it," chuckled Garrus. "You think you could do the same for me, if I ever got arrested for the same thing, Shepard?"

"What makes you think I had anything to do with it?" asked Shepard, looking awkward. "Bailey seems like a good man. I think he knew the score. Sounded to me like he'd screwed up raising a son, and didn't want the same thing for Thane and Kolyat."

"I must admit that I still have difficulty understanding how human minds work," said Thane. "I appreciate his gesture, however." He took a bite out of his self-prepared rations before turning back to Shepard. "So where is our next stop?"

"We're gonna rendezvous with the Migrant Fleet," said Shepard. "I think the time for us getting to the bottom of why Tali's been brought up on criminal charges is long overdue."

"Poor kid..." sighed Garrus. "What the hell could she have done to piss off the Quarians so much? Hope it's got nothing to do with her working with Kiryuu Knight a couple of years back."

"If it was, they would have punished her long before now," Shepard shrugged. "Whatever trouble it is, I just hope we can get Tali out of it."

Unnoticed by the others, a figure had walked across the mess hall and entered Miranda's office, which was on the same deck. It wasn't until the sound of raised voices could be heard coming from the office that the others started to pay attention.

"_Uh, Commander,"_ Joker's voice suddenly said over the intercom. _"EDI just told me that Jack and Miranda are having a... disagreement. Can you head it off before they tear out a bulkhead?"_

"I'll deal with it," said Shepard.

"_Take pictures!"_ Joker chimed in before signing off.

"Crap..." Shepard muttered as she rose to her feet. "This will be about Pragia..."

The planet Pragia was once home to a Cerberus facility that had somehow avoided attention during the Covenant War. They were using the base to research ESP capability in humans, experimenting on children and forcing them to fight each other to test them. Jack, known as Subject Zero to them, was their biggest success. After the brutal experiments and treatment became too much to bear, the children had rebelled, and Jack had escaped in the chaos. The place was now a pile of rubble, but that had not been before Jack had learned that the only other survivor from the facility, a man by the name of Aresh, had tried to restart it, believing that everything he had endured had to have been for something.

"I still cannot believe that Cerberus would do something so barbaric in that facility," said Thane. "What they did to those children is inexcusable, even by their standards. I am surprised that Jack showed mercy to that man, Aresh, considering he wanted to repeat history in that abominable place."

"So am I," said Shepard. As the raised voices from the office grew louder, Shepard shook her head and walked away from the table. "Excuse me." She walked across the mess hall and opened the door to Miranda's office.

"Touch me with those things and I will smear the walls with you, bitch!" Jack shrieked at that moment, using her telekinetic abilities to throw a chair across the office straight at Miranda. The Technomancer had her glowing cords out and used them to bat the chair to one side, almost hitting Shepard as she walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Enough!" Shepard barked, looking furious. "Stand down, both of you!"

"The cheerleader won't admit what Cerberus did to me was wrong," snarled Jack, glaring at Miranda with pure murder in her eyes.

"It wasn't Cerberus," Miranda retorted, stepping towards Jack with her cords wrapped around her arms. "Not really. But clearly you were a mistake."

"Screw you!" Jack shouted, pointing a finger between Miranda's eyes. "You've no idea what they put me through! Maybe it's time I showed you!" She bent slightly, curling her right hand into a fist while Miranda reached an arm back, the glow on her cords becoming brighter, both women stepping towards each other and with identical glares, looking like predators about to pounce on their prey. Quickly, Shepard stepped between them and pushed them both back, keeping them at arm's length from each other.

"Our mission is too important to let personal feelings get in the way," she said firmly, giving both of them a stony stare.

"Fuck your feelings," spat Jack, trying to force her way past Shepard. "I just want her dead."

"You both know what we're up against," Shepard retorted. "Save your anger for the Collectors." When it didn't feel like either woman was resisting her any more, she backed away. Things were silent for a moment, as both women continued to observe each other carefully, both with identical looks of resentment. Finally, it was Miranda who broke the silence.

"I can put aside my differences," she said, as the cords withdrew back into her head and she advanced on Jack. "Until the mission is over."

"Sure," said Jack, nodding her head in Shepard's direction. "I'll do my part." Her lip curled into a nasty sneer as she glared at Miranda dead in the eye. "I'd hate to see her die before I get a chance to filet her myself."

"You two going to be okay?" asked Shepard, her arms folded. Jack said nothing, but waved her hand dismissively as she stepped back out of Miranda's office. Miranda, meanwhile, released a deep sigh, shaking her head.

"It's a good thing you came by when you did," she said, sitting back down at her desk. "As long as she does her job, we'll be fine. Thanks, Shepard." She nodded appreciatively before returning to her terminal.

Shepard nodded and stepped out of the office, leaning against the wall and wiping her brow. That had been too close. Ironically for a Cerberus vessel, several on the _Normandy_ wanted to see Cerberus go down, herself included. If arguments such as that between Jack and Miranda were going to get any further, then she had the feeling that Gardner would soon be cleaning pieces of her dysfunctional team off the walls.


	16. Old Blood

**Old Blood**

Tali'Zorah felt as if someone had cut her open and scooped out her organs. The horrifying revelations that she and her friends had learned were swimming through her brain, and the thought of what may happen if the Migrant Fleet found out about it threatened to drown her in her own despair.

It turned out that the charges that the Admiralty Board had filed against her were of treason, that she was accused of shipping active Geth components to the fleet. These parts had activated, and the Geth had taken over the science vessel the Alarei. The Quarians were now addressing her as 'Tali'Zorah vas Normandy', as if it was some mark of shame. It was true that she had shipped Geth parts to her father, as he was wanting them to research means of fighting the Geth (and possibly Kiryuu Knight, a prospect that Tali found frightening as she knew that, although Kiryuu was not aggressive, his abilities could destroy the fleet if he was provoked), but she had checked every part very carefully. There was no possibility that the parts she sent could have re-activated by themselves or hacked the ship's systems. To her horror, she had discovered that her father had ordered the Geth be re-activated to run tests on them, keeping every one of his developments a secret from the Admiralty Board. His last words to his daughter had been instructions on how to get the evidence of what happened on that ill-fated ship, after she and Shepard had already fought their way through a small army of Geth. The fact that her father's last words were essentially orders just showed Tali the kind of man that he was.

She, Shepard and Garrus were walking through the Quarian liveship the _Rayya_, moving swiftly into the enormous humid garden area, filled with lush plants which served the purpose of generating oxygen for the whole ship. The Admiralty Board already seemed to be ready to call a verdict, believing Tali and the others to have been killed in action. The chamber was filled with Quarians, all in their environmental suits even in the sterile atmosphere of the ship. Even Shepard and Garrus had to keep their helmets up at all times to prevent any kind of contamination from coming on board. All of the Quarians were gathered around a large podium, sat on low steps arranged to appear like stadium seating, and on that podium were the four members of the Admiralty Board. The _Normandy_ crew paused for a moment, with both Shepard and Garrus regarding Tali awkwardly. The Quarian felt extremely nervous; showing the evidence they had gathered to the Admiralty Board would certainly clear Tali's name, but it would also mean that her father would be stricken from the records of every Quarian ship he had served on. His name would be lower than mud, he would be the monster in future cautionary tales that were told to scare children, and all of the good work that he had done for the fleet would be undone. She had begged Shepard not to hand the evidence in; she would rather face exile than see her father's legacy be destroyed.

"You gonna hang back again?" Shepard was asking Garrus.

"Yeah, Shepard," replied Garrus. "I'm thinking this situation needs a bit more tact than I'm used to giving." He leaned over to look at Tali. "You gonna be okay, kiddo?" he asked gently.

"I... I don't know..." Tali stammered, wringing her hands before turning back to Shepard. "Shepard, please, you can't-"

"I know, Tali," sighed Shepard. "But I'm not gonna steer you wrong. Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?" Without waiting for an answer, she marched back towards the crowd. Tali ran to keep up as Shepard pushed her way through the Quarian crowds, while Garrus sat down on the top step.

"Sorry we're late," said Tali to the four leading Quarians, trying to sound bolder than she felt.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy saved the Alarei," said Shepard. "I hope this proves her loyalty to the Quarian people."

"Her loyalty was never in doubt," Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib rebutted. "Only her judgement." In the brief time that Shepard had been able to speak to Admiral Koris, she had learned that he was something of an oddity amongst the Quarians, as he was in favour of attempting to reconcile with the Geth, who he felt were betrayed by the Quarians. She wasn't able to find out why he felt this way, but only knew for certain that he was disgusted by the implications of the work of Tali's father. She had also learned that it was not a good idea to ask why he had a ship called the _Qwib Qwib_.

"Perhaps Tali'Zorah can offer something to encourage more trust in her judgement," said Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, the head of the Admiralty Board. Tali regarded her as an aunt and a close family friend, and she had done her best to remain impartial on the matter, especially on the issue of whether or not the Quarians were to try to forcibly retake their homeworld from the Geth.

"Did you find anything on the Alarei that could clarify what happened there?" asked Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema. Gerrel was an old friend of Tali's father, and was now actively pursuing a confrontation with the Geth.

Tali and Shepard looked at each other, with Tali's pearl-like eyes still showing a pleading look behind her visor. As Shepard stepped forward she said, "Shepard... please..." She feared the worst; Shepard would be duty-bound to turn over the evidence. It was her decision, but she didn't want her captain, her friend, to destroy all that her father was.

"Does Captain Shepard have any new evidence to submit to this hearing?" asked Admiral Raan. The Quarians referred to Shepard as 'Captain', even though that was not her official rank, as she was the de-facto captain of the _Normandy_.

"Tali helped me defeat Saren and the Geth at the Citadel," Shepard suddenly said. "That should be all the evidence you need."

"I fail to see what relevance-" Admiral Koris began, but was interrupted by Shepard.

"You're not really interested in Tali, are you?!" she said, pointing accusingly at the Admiralty Board members. "This trial isn't about her; it's about the Geth!"

"This hearing has nothing to do with the Geth!" shouted Koris.

"You want people to sympathise with them!" Shepard shouted back. "Han'Gerrel wants to go to war, and Daro'Xen wants to control them!" she added, referring to the fourth Admiralty member, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, who had made it abundantly clear that she considered the Geth to be nothing more than errant tools that needed to be controlled. "None of you care about Tali! She knows more about the Geth than any other Quarian alive. You should be listening to her, not putting her on trial!" She proceeded to march and gesticulate in front of the crowd, her shouting becoming louder, fiercer and more passionate. "Tali'Zorah saved the Citadel! She saved the Alarei! She showed the galaxy the value of the Quarian people! I can't think of stronger evidence than that!" When Shepard was finished, Tali thought she could hear some of the Quarians in the crowd cheering. No doubt Kal'Reegar would be if he didn't feel that he'd be stepping out of his boundaries as a soldier.

"Are the admirals prepared to render judgement?" asked Raan. There was a moment of silence, and then Xen was the first to bring up her Omni-Tool, no doubt transferring her judgement to Raan. Gerrel was next, then finally Korris, after he had given a long, meaningful look at Tali. The young Quarian felt her knees go weak as Raan read into her Omni-Tool, then raised her head to address the crowd.

"Tali'Zorah," she said, "in light of your history of service, we do not find sufficient evidence to convict. You are hereby cleared of all charges. Commander Shepard, we deeply appreciate you taking the time to represent one of our people."

"If you really appreciate me," said Shepard forcefully, "then forget fighting the Geth! The Reapers are on their way, and we'll need your help to stop them!"

"Thank you, Commander," said Koris in a dismissive tone. "I am sure the Admiralty Board will take that into consideration." He sounded as if he didn't believe his own words. Shepard just threw her arms up in surrender; trying to convince the galaxy of King Ghidorah's imminent return seemed like a fruitless task when it seemed the entire galaxy had spent the past two years trying to forget about him.

"This hearing is concluded," said Raan. "Go in peace, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Keelah se'lai."

As the Quarians in the room began to depart, Tali felt ready to collapse, shaking uncontrollably. Garrus ran over to help support her and help her stay on her feet. They had done it; they had managed to prevent Tali's exile without the need for the evidence. It was a feint, but it had worked, and the verdict was not likely to be rescinded any time soon. She looked between her friends, her eyes wide.

"I can't believe you pulled that off," she said faintly to Shepard. "What you said... I've never had anyone speak like that on my behalf. Thank you for being there for my father and me, even when... Thank you."

"We can still go back in and get you exiled, if you want," said Shepard, grinning behind her helmet. She noticed that Tali seemed to sound disappointed, but that may be the sheer disbelief of what they had achieved talking.

"Thanks," Tali chuckled, "but I'm fine with things like this. It's fun watching you shout."

"Tali," Garrus chimed in. "About what your father said, what he did... You deserved better."

"I got better, Garrus," said Tali. "I got you, I got Shepard, I got everyone on the _Normandy_."

"Then let's go, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," said Shepard, chuckling slightly. "We've got a galaxy to save." Tali considered the new surname to be a badge of honour; she would be proud to call herself a member of the _Normandy_ crew any day.

As they were about to walk towards the airlock, Admiral Koris suddenly approached them.

"Tali," he quickly said, in a rather quiet manner. "I... I didn't want to say anything in front of the other admirals, but... I want you to pass on a message to Kiryuu Knight in the Orion Alliance. Tell him that I am open for consultation in matters regarding the Geth. The other admirals would not want me to say this, but I feel we need the perspective of an artificial intelligence that has learned to co-exist with organics."

"Admiral..." said Tali, taken aback. "I am not exactly on the best of terms with him, myself..."

"We'll work something out, Admiral," Shepard quickly chimed in. "Perhaps at a more convenient time." She didn't trust Koris, in spite of his sympathies lying with AIs, and she knew that he only wanted the former President to help push his own agenda. For the time being, however, it seemed to be most prudent to humour him.

"Thank you, Commander," said Koris, bowing and then quickly leaving. The trio watched him go, then Tali rubbed her helmet as if she was wiping sweat off her brow.

"That's all we need..." she sighed, as they walked back towards the _Normandy_ airlock. "Imagine Kiryuu Knight being on the Migrant Fleet... Everybody would want to rip him apart, and I hate to think what he'd do to them if they tried!"

"Makes me tempted to bring him here just to watch the fireworks." muttered Garrus.

0

Life was so simple for Urdnot Wrex once, not to mention more exciting. One minute he was a mercenary with no greater concern than when he would receive his next payment, the next he was leading his entire Krogan clan and attempting to safeguard the future of his entire race back on his homeworld of Tuchanka. This of course included a lot of negotiations with other Krogan clans, which was not easy at the best of times when most of his race spent their time glorifying pointless violence rather than trying to restore their dying people. The galaxy had moved on, but the Krogans had not, still wasting effort thinking about enacting petty vengeance at the worst possible times, especially with the Reapers ready to drop at any moment. Even if those nightmarish creatures weren't an issue, within a few generations the Krogan were almost certain to go extinct; the genophage, which drastically lowered fertility rates and made sure only one in a thousand kids survive, had made sure of that.

He sat on a makeshift throne made out of rubble, from which he had a good view of the whole Urdnot camp. Well, he used the term 'camp', but like everywhere else on Tuchanka it was a big pile of near-radioactive rubble which some foolhardy souls had somehow managed to eke a living from. He was currently in negotiations with another clan leader, Gatatog Uvenk, who was the worst sort of traditionalist. If Krogan like Uvenk had their way, the Krogan race would end up wiping itself out. Wrex was determined to find a way for the Krogan people to become less reliant on outside help, though the seemingly permanent nuclear desert on the surface made that prospect rather difficult. He held his head in his hand as he listened to Uvenk go on a rant.

"You know what tradition demands," he was saying. "Clan Urdnot must respond. Your reforms will not go unopposed. You risk appearing weak at a critical time."

Searching for something, anything, to distract him from Uvenk's lecture, Wrex cast his blood-red eyes about the desolate camp. Turning towards his guards, he saw a figure who he never thought he would see again, apparently being held up by his personal guards. A human woman, one of the strongest, bravest warriors he had ever met, the woman who had given him renewed purpose two years ago. With her were two others; one a Krogan, but a very young-looking one in spite of his clearly adult body, the other a Salarian who was attracting a lot of dirty looks from other nearby Krogan. He stood up to get a better look at her, and called out her name.

"Shepard!" he called.

"Good enough?" Shepard said to the guard, a smirk spreading across her face. "Excuse me," she continued, pushing past the guards and walking towards Wrex, who in turn stepped down from his throne and pushed aside the outraged-looking Uvenk. Chuckling, he grabbed Shepard's hand and shook it firmly.

"Shepard!" he said, his tortoise-like face beaming. "My friend! You look well for dead, Shepard. Should have known the void couldn't hold you."

"Looks like helping me destroy Saren and the Geth worked out for you," said Shepard, smiling. "Glad we didn't have to kill each other on Virmire."

"You made the rise of Urdnot possible," replied Wrex, chuckling. "Virmire was a turning point for the Krogan, though not everyone was happy about it." He cast a disdainful glance back at Uvenk before continuing. "Destroying Saren's genophage cure freed us from his manipulation. I used that to spur the clans to unify under Urdnot."

"You abandoned many traditions to get your way," spat Uvenk. "Dangerous."

Frowning, Wrex turned back to Uvenk, and then without warning headbutted the upstart Krogan, the cracking sound of their bony head-plates connecting resounding through the whole camp. Uvenk was sent reeling back as Wrex raised himself to full height, his arms folded, every inch the clan leader.

"Speak when spoken to, Uvenk," he grunted as Uvenk struggled to recover. "I'll drag your clan to glory whether it likes it or not." He moved to sit back on his throne, Shepard smirking at Uvenk as she and her companions moved in front of the throne.

"Now, Shepard," continued Wrex. "What brings you here? You look good for someone who got spaced. Ah, the benefits of a redundant nervous system!"

"Yeah, humans don't have that," said Shepard.

"Oh," said Wrex, wincing, "it must have been painful, then. But you're standing here, and I hear you've got a strong new ship." He had of course heard the rumours of Shepard's survival, which had been received around the galaxy with mixed reactions. "Takes me back to the old days. Us against the unknown, killing it with big guns. Good times."

"Sounds like you've got big changes ahead for the Krogan," said Shepard.

"We're making a neutral ground where all clans are welcome," said Wrex. "Fertile females can be shared among clans. We will strengthen the race as a whole."

"You threaten everything that makes us strong," barked Uvenk, looking disgusted. "It will not last."

"Maybe," Wrex hissed, his eyes narrowed. "Until then, you're lucky to be a part of it."

"How do you maintain security with so many different clans in one place?" asked Shepard.

"Any clan willing to send in hostages can come in," said Wrex. "No fighting inside the camp. Each clan punishes its own criminals. We stop conflicts before anyone dies. Then we present a simple choice; pay a fine and deal with your problems, or your clan is no longer welcome."

"That doesn't sound very harsh by Krogan standards," said Shepard, arching an eyebrow.

"Allies from other clans like what I'm doing," said Wrex. "They help deal with skeptics. Many are eager for an outlet. Every time I've declared a clan unwelcome, my allies have destroyed them. Word gets around."

"What's so important about maintaining individual clans?" asked Shepard.

"Every clan has different customs," said Wrex. He was eager to explain his plans, and it pleased him that Shepard seemed genuinely interested. "Rites of passage, rules of behaviour, battle songs, all unique. That diversity makes us great. No clan, not even mine, was meant to survive on its own."

"Urdnot is currently leading clan," the Salarian suddenly chimed in. "Doesn't that make your culture primary?" Uvenk snarled, hardly daring to believe that this Salarian had dared to even look at a Krogan, but a warning glance from Wrex dissuaded him from doing anything rash. As far as Wrex was concerned, any ally of Shepard's was an ally of his, no matter how reluctantly. He was certainly glad that Garrus was not her; he would never hear the end of it from that Turian show-off.

"For now," said Wrex. "But every clan has its unique assets. The best tacticians are Urdnot. Jorgal has the longest breeding line. Gatatog holds the oldest settlement. Others have their own strengths. We keep going how we are, the clans will end up as craters under nuclear haze. Even Urdnot. We need to rethink, restart." He was sure he could hear a derisive snort from Uvenk, but reasoned that he would let the Gatatog leader recover from one headache before giving him another.

"What do the women of Clan Urdnot think about this plan?" asked Shepard. Wrex couldn't help chuckling slightly; he knew that human females could be as strong as their male counterparts, and was sure that Shepard would get on with the female Krogans like a house on fire.

"It was our female clan leader's idea," he said. "The neutral area is safe, and it encourages more female clans to ally with us. Attacks on Urdnot now endanger the females of all clans. Even clans that want to see me dead will defend Clan Urdnot."

"Your women have their own clan structure?" asked Shepard.

"Nothing is more valuable than a fertile female," said Wrex in a low tone. "We know it. They know it. They isolate themselves for their own protection. We work together to set up breeding alliances. I can hardly do anything without Clan Leader Uta's approval," he finished, chuckling a little.

"This all sounds ambitious," said Shepard, looking impressed. "How's it gone so far?"

"Better than I'd feared," said Wrex, "worse than I'd hoped."

"It can't continue," Uvenk suddenly butted in. "You are going against what makes us strong."

"Sounds like you're not making friends," said Shepard, casting a glance back at Uvenk, who in turn looked as if he wanted to set her on fire at that moment.

"Traditionalists like Uvenk are chained varren," said Wrex, glaring at Uvenk, who in turn shook his head with a look of the upmost contempt. "Always fighting, guarding their pathetic stick in the ground. When the smoke clears, I can plant the flag on their corpses, and rally the rest around a new Krogan hub."

"Sounds like you're counting on a lot of bloodshed," said Shepard, with concern in her voice, "even after you unite."

"It'll be slow," said Wrex, "but I won't change what we are. Krogan are judged by the strength of our enemies. Our worst insult is to say someone's 'not worth killing'."

"Well, I hope it all works out well for your people," said Shepard, with a look of sympathy that could melt even Wrex's stony heart. "But back to the reason I'm here..."

"We don't often allow aliens to do business on Tuchanka," said Wrex, "but you're an exception."

"I have a Krogan on my crew," said Shepard, pointing at the young Krogan behind her. "He has some kind of sickness and needs treatment."

Wrex leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. He beckoned for the young Krogan to step forward, which he did so. Something about his scent seemed odd, but he could not place his finger on what.

"Where are you from, whelp?" he asked. "Was your clan destroyed before you could learn what is expected of you?"

"I have no clan," the Krogan grunted, as Uvenk stepped forward to survey him. "I am Grunt, tank-bred by Warlord Okeer, my line distilled from Kredak, Moro, Shiagur-"

"You recite warlords," Uvenk interrupted, looking disgusted, "but you are the offspring of a syringe!"

"I am pure Krogan," spat Grunt. "You should be in awe."

"Okeer is a very old name," Wrex hissed, his blood-red eyes peering straight into the young Krogan's own blue ones. "A very hated name."

"He is dead," said Grunt simply.

"Of course," said Wrex, stepping down off his throne and standing before the whelp. "You're with Shepard. How could he be alive?"

"Does that name mean anything to you, Wrex?" asked Shepard.

"A vicious warlord responsible for many deaths," said Wrex, turning back to the youngling. "Who apparently toyed with genetics." He continued to peer at the young Krogan, who showed no signs of fear or doubt. "A clone undertaking the Rite...?" he added, pausing, scratching his chin. It seemed such a ridiculous idea, and would doubtless earn him a lot of enemies, but if this 'Grunt' was an ally of Shepard's...

"You are considering it?" asked Uvenk, aghast. "Tank-bred allowed status as an adult? This is too far!"

"There's nothing wrong with him," said Wrex, turning back to Shepard. "He's becoming a full adult."

"So this is the Krogan equivalent of adolescence?" asked the Salarian. "Rather destructive, judging by the mess he made of the starboard cargo hold."

"I don't care what aliens call it," said Wrex, shrugging. "Krogan undergo the Rite of Passage."

"Too far, Wrex!" Uvenk shouted. "Your clan may rule, but this thing is not Krogan!" He roughly shoved his way past Shepard and Wrex, marching away from the throne and heading up a nearby staircase. Wrex watched him go, his eyes narrowed.

"Idiot," he grunted, before turning back to the young Krogan. "So, Grunt, do you wish to stand with Urdnot?"

"You'll let a tank-bred Krogan join Clan Urdnot?" asked Shepard, failing to suppress a tone of admiration.

"Only because he's with you," said Wrex. "After all, you and I killed thousands like him. Not quite as big, but many. Clan Urdnot is strong, and the others will do as I say. They see the benefit of my vision."

"What happens if he doesn't do this Rite of Passage?" asked the Salarian.

"If he was left here," said Wrex, "he would be killed. The clanless are not respected; a tank-bred probably more so. His disposition is what it is, rite or no. That's just him being a Krogan." He turned back to Grunt. "Okeer didn't tell you that in the tank, did he, boy?" He took Grunt's silence to mean he was answering in the positive.

"What does the Rite of Passage require?" asked Shepard.

"Not for me to say, Shepard," replied Wrex, shaking his head. "The shaman will discuss that." Shepard looked between Wrex and Grunt for a moment. Wrex knew that look; she was weighing her options, looking at all of the benefits and the drawbacks. He had never known any human who seemed to consider all things from all conceivable angles.

"This is his choice," she finally said. Wrex liked that answer; right now, she may be Grunt's battlemaster, but she still respected his individual choices. Grunt turned away for a moment, gazing out across the blasted camp, raising himself to his full height, apparently doing some soul-searching. Finally, he turned around and peered at Wrex with a determined gleam in his eye.

"It is in my blood," he said. "It's what I am for."

"Good boy," said Wrex approvingly. "Speak with the shaman – he's over on the second level. Give him a good show, and he'll set you on the path." With that, Wrex turned and moved back to his throne, pausing for a moment to address Shepard. "You too, Shepard. How many times have you stepped in a mess for your crew, hmm?" He sat back down on the rubble which he called a throne, chuckling. "Since you brought Tuchanka's Public Enemy Number One here," he continued, indicating the Salarian, "I'm also guessing you're here about that Salarian son-of-a-bitch."

"Yes," the reedy-voiced Salarian said, now looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Student of mine, answers to name of Maelon. Heard that he disappeared here on Tuchanka."

"My scout commander will direct you," said Wrex. "Last I heard, Clan Weyrloc had your student. Don't get your hopes up; I wouldn't expect to find him alive. If you weren't with Shepard, you'd have been a bloody smear on the floor long before now." The Salarian now looked very nervous, which was the effect Wrex wanted; in spite of him being one of Shepard's allies, he couldn't resist giving him a scare. As the group turned to leave, Shepard moved to address Wrex once again.

"Been good to see you again, Wrex," she said. "You sure you can't come with us?"

"Wish I could," said Wrex ruefully, "but I need to keep these short-sighted fools in line." With one last smile on his reptilian features, he nodded. "Hunt well, Shepard."

As he watched the trio leave, he began to reminisce about the old days, of the struggle against King Ghidorah and his Reapers. Already he was anticipating the next time that monster showed his ugly face, and he was determined to be there for Shepard when the time came. With any luck, by that time, they would have the might of the united Krogan clans at their back. That was assuming Shepard, the tank-born Krogan, and the weedy Salarian could survive the Rite of Passage; if it was anything like his own Rite, they would need all the help they could get...

0

Like most healthy Salarians, Mordin Solus had always listened to his head rather than his heart. Sentiment was not something that he could afford in his line of work, when difficult decisions had to be made for the good of all. The naturally short lifespans of Salarians necessitated that they don't spend time dwelling on matters and that they processed their emotions quickly. With the data available to him at the time of the Krogan Rebellions, he was sure that the genophage was the right thing to do for the good of the galaxy; had the Krogan being allowed to continue to run rampant, they would certainly have either overrun the galaxy or being exterminated completely in the war. Controlling the birthrates was the most humane solution; force the Krogan into surrender for the sake of their species' survival and maintain viable population rates. Recently, when the Krogans had started to adapt to the genophage, to override it, he and his team had been called in to modify it and disperse it again, keeping their birth rates low. He had even ended up in an argument with Shepard over the necessity of these operations; he thought humans of all creatures understood that unethical actions were sometimes necessary for the good of the galaxy, if what he knew of the Spartan program was anything to go by.

His head reassured him that it was the right thing to do, but now his heart was telling him that it was far from such a thing. It was true that he had had a crisis of faith after the modified genophage had been deployed; he had sought solace from anywhere that he could. He had tired of having to carry out such morally questionable deeds for the greater good; that was why he had become a doctor on Omega, healing the sick, where no such ambiguity could get in the way. After all that he had seen on Tuchanka, seeing how the Krogans had ended up destroying themselves, being reduced to little more than barbarism, the sense of regret that he felt was now overriding his admiration for their tenacity. It was a consequence that he had not foreseen, and he had certainly not foreseen the barbaric and desperate measures that the Krogan were now going to to find a cure.

That was why his assistant Maelon had been kidnapped by Clan Weyrloc; to find a cure for the genophage. He, Shepard and Grunt had passed the Rite of Passage, even defeating a Thresher Maw, a feat which only Urdnot Wrex himself had managed. Now all three, in their search for Maelon, had borne witness to the results of the barbaric experiments that the clan had carried out on their own people, determined to find a cure for the genophage, promising to utterly destroy the galaxy when they were successful. Such unacceptable goals could not go unanswered, and now the leadership of Clan Weyrloc was destroyed. They had searched the abandoned hospital that the clan had been using as a base, and now there was only one room left to check...

The trio carefully edged their way into a vast chamber at the bottom of the complex. Mordin wondered if it had been used as a ward once, for the cavernous room had two rows of stretchers running down the length of it. On each bed lay a Krogan body, completely inert and lifeless, doubtless more victims of the brutal tests that they had undergone. He was convinced that these unfortunate Krogan had volunteered for the procedures, desperate to help in any way they could to put an end to the genophage. Another unintended consequence of what he had been sure was the right thing to do...

At the far end of the chamber was a large console, the screen almost reaching up to the ceiling and filled with charts, diagrams of cell structures and countless notes and calculations. Stood at the base of the console, wearing holographic manipulators to interface with the display, was a Salarian, one who Mordin could recognise even from this distance.

"Maelon," he said, his dark eyes widening. "Alive, unharmed." He could hear the sound of Grunt's shotgun being loaded as he and Shepard moved closer to his student. "No signs of restraint. No evidence of torture. Don't understand."

"For such a smart man, Professor," Maelon said, in a nasty, disdainful tone, "you always had trouble seeing evidence that disagreed with your preconceptions." He turned away from his work to face his old mentor. "How long will it take you to admit that I'm here because I wish to be here?!"

"He wasn't kidnapped," said Shepard, stating the truth that Mordin did not wish to admit to himself. "He must have come here voluntarily to cure the genophage."

"Impossible!" spluttered Mordin. "Whole team agreed! Project necessary!"

"How was I supposed to disagree with the great Doctor Solus?!" barked Maelon. "I was your student! I looked up to you!"

"Experiments performed here," yelled Mordin, his tone sounding more outraged as he counted off Maelon's crimes on his fingers. "Live subjects! Prisoners! Torture and executions! Your doing?!"

"We've already got the blood of millions on our hands, Doctor!" Maelon rebuked. "If it takes a bit more to put things right, I can deal with that."

"And you call us monsters..." snarled Grunt, about to raise his gun, but lowered it when Shepard held up a warning hand.

"Why work with Clan Weyrloc?" she asked, wondering why the Salarian would work with such obviously unstable Krogan. "How did you access the genophage data?"

"The data was easy to obtain," replied Maelon. "We all still had clearance. We were heroes. All I had to do was ask. As for the Weyrloc, they were the only clan with both the resources and the commitment."

"Urdnot has a larger camp than Weyrloc," said Shepard. "Why not use them?"

"Urdnot Wrex is too soft," spat Maelon. "He wasn't willing to do the experiments I needed. It's Urdnot's loss and Weyrloc's gain. Their clan will be the first to recover from the crimes we committed." If he was being honest with himself, Mordin could not help but be impressed by Wrex's plans to try to stabilise his people; now, hearing that he was unwilling to go along with such barbaric methods, he found his respect for the Urdnot leader growing.

"You talked about killing," said Shepard, "but the genophage isn't lethal. It only affects fertility rates."

"Krogan fight over fertile females," said Maelon, frowning. "They become mercenaries or pirates because they see no alternative!" He turned towards Mordin, pointing accusingly. "They would be thriving in a cultural renaissance now had we not decided that this is what they deserved!"

"Inaccurate!" Mordin retorted, gesticulating frantically, a habit he did whenever he was flustered. "Krogan population resulted in war. Simulations were clear!" He could feel Shepard's gaze on him; the two of them had argued at length about the validity of the simulations; as far as Shepard was concerned they could not account for the unpredictable nature of life itself. Some small part of Mordin couldn't help but say that he was now lying, not just to Maelon but to himself.

"What happens if the genophage is cured and the Krogan expand again?" asked Shepard, giving Mordin the benefit of the doubt for the time-being. "That will be on your head."

"We justified this atrocity by saying the Krogan would cause havoc and war if their population recovered!" yelled Maelon. "But look at the galaxy! Batarian attacks in the Traverse, the Covenant War in the Orion Arm, Geth attacks on the Citadel. Is this a more peaceful universe?! The assault on your Eden Prime might never have happened if we had let the Krogan recover. We'll never know."

"How would a Krogan population explosion have done anything to stop Saren and the Geth?!" retorted Shepard, her arms folded.

"An increased Krogan population would have forced the Council to take steps," Maelon explained, "likely involving colony rights in the Traverse. The Turian fleets would have been vigilant for any military activity in the area. They might have stopped the Geth at Eden Prime."

"Supposition," said Mordin, shaking his head. "Impossible to be certain."

"Don't you see?!" said Maelon, looking frantic. "We tried to play God, and it failed! We only made things worse... and I'm going to fix it."

"Not like this," snarled Grunt.

"You honestly think that what you've done here is justified?!" Shepard hissed.

"We committed cultural genocide!" shouted Maelon. "Nothing I do will ever be justified! The experiments were monstrous..." he continued, glaring at Mordin. "Because I was taught to be a monster."

"Mordin," said Shepard, turning to the elder Salarian, "did you ever perform experiments like this?"

"No," replied Mordin firmly, turning back to his student. "Never taught you this, Maelon."

"So your hands are clean!" Maelon scoffed. "What does it matter if the ground is stained with the blood of millions?! You taught me that the ends justified the means! I will undo what we did, Professor, the only way I know how."

"Maelon clearly doesn't need rescuing," sighed Shepard, turning back to Mordin. "What do you want to do?"

"Have to end this," said Mordin firmly.

"Let me tear his head in two," snarled Grunt, looking ready to charge with a look of pure murder in his eyes. "Okeer's implants showed me the best way."

"You can't face the truth, can you?!" Maelon yelled, pulling his gun out and pointing it at Mordin. "Can't admit that your brilliant mind led you to commit an atrocity!"

It was then that Shepard and Grunt moved to advance on him, and Maelon quickly turned to point his gun at them. Before he could fire off a shot, however, Mordin had got in close and struck him hard on the chin, knocking the gun out of his hand and sending him reeling back, hitting the screen of his console. Mordin quickly moved upon him, pinning his student to the display and raising his own pistol up to the panic-stricken Salarian's head.

"Unacceptable experiments," hissed Mordin. "Unacceptable goals. Won't change... No choice. Have to kill you." His expression hardened as his trigger finger tightened.

"Wait!" Shepard suddenly cut in. "You don't need to do this, Mordin. You're not a murderer." In spite of himself, Mordin heard Shepard's words loud and clear. If he pulled the trigger, he would be no better than the snivelling worm that he had at gunpoint. He could not undo this evil by committing a crime himself. He gasped, and then, his eyes closed, he released his grip on Maelon.

"No..." he breathed. "Not a murderer. Thank you, Shepard." He holstered his gun as Maelon wiped sweat off his brow. "Finished, Maelon. Get out. No Weyrloc left. Project over."

"What if he talks to more Krogan?" asked Shepard. "What if he tells the public about the modified genophage project?"

"Special Tasks Group good at covering tracks," said Mordin. "No proof. Weyrloc willingness to work with Salarian unusual. Other Krogan will kill him." He looked meaningfully back at Grunt, who looked as if he wanted to pull the doctor's spine out.

"Aren't you worried that he'll start his research again?" asked Shepard.

"No," said Mordin. "Locking this unit. Special Tasks Group can cut access to old data. Could start from scratch. Decades of work, though. Didn't teach you everything I knew," finished Mordin, his eyes narrowed at Maelon, who looked positively terrified.

"Where am I supposed to go, Professor?" he asked.

"Don't care," replied Mordin. "Try Omega. Can always use another clinic."

"The Krogan didn't deserve what we did them, Professor," said Maelon firmly. "The genophage has to end!" With that, he ran out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. Grunt watched him go, looking resentful.

"Not like this," muttered Mordin, leaning over the control panel for the console. "Apologies, Commander. Misunderstood mission parameters. No kidnapping. My mistake. Thank you."

"Don't worry about me, Mordin," said Shepard. "How are you doing?"

"Should have killed him," replied Mordin. "Wanted to. Easier than listening. Easier for him too. Experiments indicate how far he's fallen. Expected it from Krogan. Not one of mine."

"Damn Salarians, always thinking they're right about everything," muttered Grunt. "Don't like it when you're wrong, do ya?"

"So many variables..." Mordin muttered. "Stress responses. Impossible to truly predict. Something to think about." He was peering intently at the screens of data before him. "Maelon's research. Only loose end. Could destroy it. Closure, security. Still valuable, though."

"He got it by butchering my people..." said Grunt bitterly. "Nothing good could come from that."

"Still might be helpful," said Mordin. "Could cure genophage. Don't know. Effects on Krogan. Effects on galaxy. Too many variables. Too many variables!"

"You regret what the Krogan have become," said Shepard in a soft tone. "You see the horror of what they did here, but you see the loss too."

"Wasted potential," sighed Mordin. Shepard looked over at Grunt, who was staring morosely at one of the bodies. She thought about both him and Wrex, both steadfast allies, trying to save their dying race and build a better future for them. They had made mistakes, but unlike what the galaxy believed they were not beyond redemption.

"They don't deserve this, Mordin," she said. "Save the data."

"Point taken, Shepard," said Mordin, bringing up his Omni-Tool. "Capturing data. Wiping local copy." Even as he spoke, the reams of information began to appear on his Omni-Tool's display, while at the same time it was disappearing from the screen before them.

"How long until a cure can be made?" Grunt suddenly asked.

"Still years away from cure," said Maelon. "But closer than starting from scratch." As the last of the data faded away from the display, he turned back to Grunt. "Cannot focus on cure now. Need to stop Collectors." He breathed in sharply. "Apology will never be sufficient."

At these words, Grunt stood up and advanced on Mordin, suddenly gripping his arm. His pale blue eyes narrowed and his lip curled. With all that he had learned, the old Salarian knew that Grunt was well within his rights to kill him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shepard ready to draw her gun at a moment's notice. For several tense moments there was silence, then Grunt finally broke it.

"No," he grunted. "It won't." With that, he suddenly released his grip on Mordin, then led the way back out of the hospital. Shepard walked alongside Mordin, looking between both him and the Krogan.

"You two going to be okay?" she asked.

"Difficult to say," said Mordin. "Has every reason to want me dead. Has every reason to want to make sure I survive. Too many variables." He turned back to his Omni-Tool, looking over the genophage data that had been recovered. For the first time in a long time, he began to feel at peace with himself. Both his head and his heart seemed to have finally reached a consensus.

"Ready to be off Tuchanka," he said, trying to sound more chipper. "Anywhere else. Maybe somewhere sunny."


	17. We Are Not Numbers

**We Are Not Numbers**

After spending so long searching through the dark maintenance tunnels of the Halo, Alistair had to admit that he had somewhat lost track of time. With no sun or moon to look at, it was impossible to even guess what time it was or even how many days had passed; chronological data for the Halo had not been gathered, so the chronometers were no help. He, Dorva and Call had started this trek through the tunnels, and the two non-synthetics were now feeling intensely weary, footsore, hungry and thirsty. Their rations were now starting to run out; they had packed enough to last them a week, but now they were running low. Alistair couldn't help but chuckle at the thought that at least he could take a rough guess as to how much time had passed from looking at their thinning supplies.

"What exactly have we got left?" asked Alistair to Call, who he had placed in charge of the rations.

"Let me see..." replied Call, taking a moment to check her bag. "We've got two full canteens of water that's probably gone rancid by now, two tins of apricots, about two-thirds of a protein brick, and a tin of dog food."

Dorva looked at Call with an incredulous expression. "Why do we even have food that is intended for Earth canines on our ship?"

"I thought about keeping a dog at some point," Call squeaked, looking rather embarrassed. "I thought I would try keeping a pet and see what orga... well, what other people find so fulfilling about it. I planned to ask the Captain about it."

"Yeah," said Alistair, rolling his eyes, "while I don't claim to know how Alan's mind works, I'm pretty sure he'd agree with me when I say that most people buy dog food _after_ they buy a dog."

"I'm just planning ahead," Call shrugged. Alistair failed to stifle a snort, trying to prevent a fit of laughter. Dorva just looked bemused.

"Well, I know what I'm going to eat last," said Alistair. "I can't stand protein bricks." Ignoring the revolted looks on his companions' faces, he led the way further down the scarcely-lit tunnel. The only light came from below, as a grating could be seen every few dozen feet. It struck Alistair as odd to see something so mundane as a ventilation cover on a Forerunner structure. It seemed to be one of those universal constants that could be spotted across the whole galaxy, regardless of race or technology level. Some testing had revealed that they could be opened with a few swift kicks. He grunted, adjusting the position of the large Spartan Laser that he was carrying. The weapon was referred to by the others as the "BFG", and resembled a large green rocket launcher with a laser sight. Normally such a weapon would be too unwieldy for most creatures to use, but this one had been modified to be used by anyone.

"Are you sure you don't want someone else to carry that for you?" asked Dorva.

"I'm sure, Dorva," replied Alistair. "I was sure last time you asked, and I haven't changed my mind in the intervening period. Besides, now that José's retired I'm the only one who knows how to work the bloody thing." He wiped sweat off his brow as he turned to Call. "We must be there by now..."

"If we've been following these schematics right," said Call, bringing up her commlink and peering at the screen, "we should be right above the containment area. You really think the others will be in here?"

"It's as good a place as any to start," said Alistair. "You know how long things went without word from them. If they've been captured it only makes sense that they'll be taken to the place with the 'containment area' label."

"That's assuming the Forerunners used our logic," shrugged Call. "It's a pretty big leap of faith, if you ask me."

"How is that any different from our usual modus operandi?" asked Dorva. "Sometimes I suspect that it is luck more than skill that we rely on." He allowed himself a slight awkward chuckle. "Not much in the Fleet Shadow of Fury has changed, if that's the case."

"I dare you to say that to Telek's face," said Alistair. "Anyway, I say we take five here, then go take a look below." He set the immense weapon down on the floor and sat down against the wall. "Chuck us one of those tins of apricots, would you, Call, love?"

"You sure?" asked Call, even as she pulled a grey tin out of her backpack and threw it to him. "Once they're gone, they're gone."

"Let me indulge myself a little here," replied Alistair, catching the tin and opening it up. "It's not easy schlepping that BFG all the way down here, you know!" He tipped some of the contents from the tin into his beak, enjoying the taste of the sweet fruit. Getting real food on the _Serenity_ was a luxury that the crew couldn't indulge in often, and Alistair was determined to enjoy this moment in spite of the circumstances. Call just shook her head and counted the remaining rations, hoping that neither Alistair nor Dorva ended up getting desperate enough to eat the dog food. She didn't know why she brought it, but it was still food, in a sense, and there wasn't much else that could have been spared.

"I may have to reduce your daily rations again," she sighed. "I don't know if we've got enough here for the journey back, should we need them-"

It was then that Alistair suddenly made a hissing noise, warning for everyone to be quiet. In the silence of the tunnel, a faint sound now reached everyone's ears. It was a voice with an electronic quality, humming a merry tune. Peering down through the vent cover, Alistair saw what looked like a small control room, with a variety of luminous control panels lining the walls. One of them seemed to be some kind of locker or display case, as Alan's and Nicole's weaponry and armour could be seen behind a transparent blue energy field. The being making the humming noises was a metallic sphere, floating above the ground, with a single blue optic as an eye. Alistair remembered what Alan had said about Monitors, and he had the feeling that this one would know what happened to their missing crew-members; surely nothing would avoid its attention for long.

"Progress on interrogation of the captured intruders remains slow," Sorrowful Dream was saying, apparently talking to himself. "The mutant in-particular is proving to be very troublesome, refusing to divulge why his Technomancer companion seeks to speak to the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor. He has said nothing but a string of strange words which, judging from the aggressive tone of his output, I assume to be vulgarities and intended to be offensive. Results of blood analysis of the mutant have proven to be more productive. An unknown amino acid has been discovered in his body, which may be the cause of the creature's extraordinary regenerative capability. Will begin tests tomorrow to determine the limitations of this ability."

It seemed clear to Alistair that the Monitor was talking about Alan. So the captain at least had been captured, and judging from what Dream was saying he was in a lot of trouble. Alistair doubted that there would be any reasoning with the Monitor, especially as he was sure they were somewhere they were not supposed to be. Looking further down the tunnel, he noticed that there was a slight curve to the right, but he could see two more vent covers set an equal distance apart. He gestured with his arms, directing Call to wait by the first vent and Dorva to wait by the second one. As Call took up her position, he made a motion as if to stamp his foot on the vent while pointing at her. She seemed to understand what it was he wanted her to do, as she looked scandalised. Alistair hated to do it, but if he was to get the drop on the Monitor, and get a clear shot with the only weapon that may damage it, then someone would have to be the bait. He then motioned towards Dorva, gesturing for him to do the same, but to wait until Call had dropped down. At least that was the message he intended to get across, and he only hoped that his comrades understood the point he was trying to make. Below him, he could hear Sorrowful Dream continue to record is audio log:

"The two Reclaimers are similarly reluctant to answer interrogation questions. The augmented female says the same phrase over and over again, which I have ascertained to be a name and military rank. No new information has been recovered from her. The Technomancer does not speak at all, though she remains responsive to other stimuli, as she reacts violently when touched by the instruments. I am satisfied to leave her hands bound at this stage so that she does not have a chance to connect to the Array, though I still need to know why she was seeking the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor. What does he know that she seeks? Interrogating him has not been a necessity for a long time, but I simply must know why Reclaimers would seek him out."

The Monitor's voice went silent as Call swiftly kicked the vent cover below her several times, until it finally fell to the floor and landed with a loud thud. Call quickly dropped down through the hole, and landed in a curved spotless corridor lined with doors on one side and what looked like a force-field on the other. Nothing could be clearly seen on the other side of the field, but that was of no concern to Call right now, as she turned and found herself staring at the spherical Monitor.

"Um... hi," she stammered, trembling from head to toe. "I was... I was wondering where the Library was?" The next second she was forced to jump out of the way as the Monitor's optic turned from blue to red, and a large laser blast hit the gleaming floor where she had been standing only a second before.

"Intruder!" shrieked Dream, as he began to chase Call down the corridor. "Intruder in the containment facility! All Sentinels converge on my position!"

A short distance down the corridor, however, there was another violent crash as another vent cover fell to the floor. Dorva dropped through the hole as Call ran past it, his Sangheili plasma rifles firing their searing cyan bolts straight at the Monitor as he fell. Dream's shields were powerful enough to absorb the shots, and he began to quickly float back towards the control room, firing his concussion blasts to prevent the Sangheili from keeping pace. However, in the time it had taken for Call and Dorva to distract the Monitor, Alistair had managed to drop into the control room and ready the Spartan laser. He kneeled to keep it steady and heard it softly hum as the shot charged up. As Dream approached the archway separating the chamber from the corridor, he spun around to find himself face to face with Alistair, a smirk lining his beak as he fired the shot.

Some of Dream's shields had survived Dorva's assault, so most of the blast was absorbed. However, the sheer force of it sent him flying backwards, bouncing off the walls like a pinball. A large gash appeared on its metallic surface where the laser had struck, and sparks flew everywhere as it hit the walls, finally coming to a stop close to where Dorva and Call had their guns trained on it.

"Damage!" the Monitor yelled. "Damage! That hurt!"

It fired another concussive blast at Dorva, forcing him to jump out of the way. He opened fire on the sphere again, before it could have a chance to regenerate its shields. Blast burns appeared on the metallic surface with each shot. Above him, he could hear the loud humming sounds of the Sentinels getting ever closer. The Monitor prepared to fire another shot, but he was jumped on from behind by Alistair, who had dropped the Spartan laser and had dashed along the floor on all fours. He sprang up and managed to grab onto Dream's casing, before unsheathing the katana strapped to his back and quickly driving it into the red optic. The colour faded back to blue as the Monitor struggled, twitching fruitlessly as Alistair twisted the blade. Somewhat disturbingly, a blue fluid began to leak out of the eye 'socket'.

"My eye!" Dream wailed. "Stop it! You're blinding me!"

"That's the idea, genius," Alistair snarled, keeping a tight grip on his sword and his eyes narrowed. "Now you listen to me very carefully. You've got some friends of ours down here, and you're gonna take us to them, and you're not gonna give us any trouble about it. Otherwise we poke more holes into you until we find out which one shuts you down for good. Understand me?" The sounds of the approaching Sentinels suddenly began to fade, as if they were returning to their posts miles above their heads.

"If I return your companions to you, you will leave this facility and never return," said Dream, trying to sound defiant in spite of himself. "Just don't damage me anymore! If my functionality is reduced too much I cannot monitor the Installation!" It occurred to Alistair that Dream may not have had to fend off a determined assault before, which may explain why he was so willing to capitulate to their demands.

Alistair withdrew the sword from the optic, causing even more fluid to gush out as he jumped off to the floor. "Don't take your eyes off him, guys," he said, sheathing his blade, a determined gleam in his eye. Call nodded, but Dorva didn't seem to be listening. He was peering out into the great chamber beyond the forcefield. The chamber was dimly-lit, and nothing but darkness could be seen on the other side.

"Hey, Dorva!" said Alistair, raising his voice. "Eyes on the prisoner, mate!"

"I thought I saw..." Dorva muttered, as he turned to face the Monitor and raised his rifles. "I suppose it doesn't matter now."

"Too bloody right," nodded Alistair. "Now keep your mind in the game until we're back on the ship." He turned back to the Monitor. "Now our crew-mates, if you please."

"Of course," said Dream, sounding rather resentful. He led the trio down the corridor towards one of the many doors on the left-hand side. As Call trailed behind Dorva, keeping her gun pointed at Dream, she kept looking towards the force-fields on the right, now feeling apprehensive. Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought she could hear faint sounds of movement coming from the immense chamber on the other side.

A few minutes later, Dream stopped in front of one of the doors, and hovered close to a small control panel on the side of it. A blue beam of light came out of his damaged optic and swept over the panel for a moment. There was a click, and the door slowly slid open.

"It is fortunate that you did not damage my optic too much," he said, in a haughty manner, "otherwise I would not be able to open these doors and your little rescue mission would be for nothing."

"Just shut it and do what you're supposed to," Alistair rebuked. "The sooner that's done, the sooner we'll be out of your hair... which, looking at your shining bonce, won't be too difficult."

As the door slid open, the group found themselves looking into a small cell, on either side of which were a variety of machines and monitoring stations. Some of the appendages on the multi-armed, shining machines looked similar to surgical instruments back on Earth. Opposite the door was what seemed to be an upright operating table, and strapped to it by restraints made of a glowing cyan energy was Alan, his shirt and boots gone. He looked exhausted, groaning piteously and barely able to raise his head. It seemed that the Monitor had interrogated him thoroughly.

"Captain!" Call shouted, running up to him as Dream moved to one of the consoles and cast his blue optic across it. The restraints faded, and Call had to catch Alan as he fell to the floor. She struggled to lift him to his feet, and Dorva had to run over to help.

"Are you alright, Shipmaster?!" asked Dorva with an urgent tone.

"I feel terrible," Alan could only groan in reply. He managed to stand on his own feet, though he wobbled precariously for a moment, his legs feeling stiff from over a week of non-use. He turned his eyes resentfully towards the Monitor. "I had the world's worst hotelier to make sure of that."

"If you had been more forthcoming in interrogations, there would be no need for such discomfort," replied Dream, as if he was scolding a naughty child. He led the group to the next cell, where Nicole was found in an almost identical state of exhaustion. Her Spartan training had helped her to not show many signs of weakness, but even over a week of this brutal accommodation was almost too much for her.

The third cell contained Gillian, who looked perfectly unconcerned as she was released from her bonds. She looked blankly around at the other crew members and casually stepped out of her cell, pulling her Technomantic cords out of her head as she did so. She seemed interested in the great central chamber above all things, and idly walked towards it as the others moved to follow her.

"Geez..." Alistair breathed, looking at Gillian with wide eyes. "You'd think she'd just been on holiday."

"Very well, beast," said Dream to him. "Your companions are now freed. Now keep to your end of the agreement and leave this facility, never to return."

"Not yet," said Gillian suddenly, and without warning her cords shot out and wrapped themselves around Dream. The machine began to tremble violently, and Alan was sure he could hear a rattling noise coming from the metal orb.

"S-stop!" Dream wailed. "You're tearing me apart!"

"Gillian!" shouted Alan. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"He shot me," said Gillian simply, though Alan was sure he could see her eyes narrowing. "He hurt me."

"I know, Gillian," said Nicole, approaching the Technomancer and speaking in a softer tone. "He hurt me and Alan too, but if you kill him we won't be able to speak to the Prisoner! He's the only one who can take us to him!"

"Prisoner?" asked Alistair. "What're you talking about?"

"Gillian mentioned that there was a prisoner here," said Alan. "He's the one being contained here, not the Flood, and he's the entire reason she brought us here. As you've probably guessed, the Monitor didn't take kindly to that fact."

"Of course I didn't!" shouted Dream, even as the rattling noise grew louder and more fluid began to leak out of his damaged optic. "The Prisoner is too dangerous! You have no idea what he has done!"

"Nonetheless," snarled Alan, "Gillian feels that we must speak to him, and right now I'm prepared to take her word for it. Even if I don't have all the facts to hand right now, I'm more inclined to trust my Technomantic crewman than the Monitor that tortured us for a week. Now if you don't want her to scatter your atoms to the opposite ends of the galaxy, I suggest you take us to this Prisoner."

Dream twisted around to get a look into everyone's faces. Everybody was looking at him with identical expressions of disgust, and it occurred to him that there was no way he could dissuade them from speaking to the Prisoner. He began to shake even more violently, the rattling sound getting even louder. Evidently Gillian was literally shaking him to death.

"Alright, alright!" he bellowed, his electronic voice getting more distorted. "I'll do whatever you want, but let me go!"

"Gillian," said Nicole. "Please... let him go." It took a moment for Gillian to respond, but in the end she relented, and released Dream from her Technomanic grip. The Monitor took a few moments to stabilise itself; between the shots, the stabbing and the Technomancy, he now looked a complete mess.

"Follow me," he finally said. He led them towards a door located in a gap in the forcefield, and quickly opened it. As the door opened, Call now found out that she hadn't been imagining things after all; the sound of deep, loud breathing could be heard as clear as day. A platform made seemingly of a blue light appeared in front of the door, hexagonal-shaped and large enough for the group to stand on. Gillian, the cords flowing around her and connecting to the platform, led the way, the platform supporting her in spite of not looking solid. It seemed that the Forerunners used the same hard-light technology as that used in Omni-Tools.

The group all stood on the platform, and soon as all of them were aboard it began to rise up an uncounted number of floors, the Monitor floating alongside them. As the platform rose, the light seemed to become gradually stronger, and it gradually dawned on the group that a dark shape before them was shifting, adjusting its position, bound by the same restraints that had been used to hold the captive crew. Whatever it was, the dim blue light gradually revealed a set of ornate combat armour, a silver colour lined with blue lights. If Alan had to guess, this figure had to be at least as tall as Kiryuu, well over sixty meters tall. As they approached the top, they saw long trails of braided hair, and finally saw a helmeted face, lowered at the moment, the helmet having a slightly draconic appearance with blue eye-holes and two long horns that grew out of the top of the concealed head, with a mane of long hair visible in the faint light. The creature was taking deep, rumbling breaths that seemed to fill the chamber. It was difficult to tell whether it was even awake, and part of Alan didn't wish to find out. He could scarcely believe his eyes at what he was seeing, and from the looks of his crew neither could they.

"What..." Call said in a loud whisper, looking like she would faint. "Who is it?"

"This is the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor," Gillian replied simply.

"Please tell me he's friendly..." Alan breathed, though he couldn't help harbouring the feeling that this creature was anything but; his luck usually turned out that way.

Even as they spoke, the Prisoner began to stir, the breathing becoming less deep. He raised his head, and though his eyes were concealed behind the eye-holes he seemed to be peering right at them. All at once a strange noise filled the chamber. It sounded like growling and hissing, combined with various shrill sounds that Alan was sure no known vocal chord would be able to reproduce. Dream replied with the same noises, and the more shrill tones made everyone feel as if their ear drums would burst.

"I guess this language isn't recorded in our translators," said Dorva, trying to make himself heard above the chamber-filling dialogue.

"Gillian," said Alan, "can you use your Technomancy to translate for us? Please?"

Gillian nodded, and extended her Technomantic chords to reach to everyone's ears, connecting to the small earpieces located just inside them. Alan heard the growling and hissing begin to distort and become static, like from a badly-tuned 20th century television, but after a few moments, as the Prisoner turned his head to look at Gillian, he began to hear clear English, spoken in a voice that was distinctly masculine; a broad, deep baritone that resounded through the static.

"It has been many long years since I have laid eyes upon the People of Erde-Tyrene," the Prisoner was saying, "and you have not forgotten what our two peoples have shared." Then, the Prisoner turned his head towards Alan and the blue lenses flashed brightly as if the Prisoner was scanning his body. "Interesting, a mutation of your species. I hope it was not caused by the Usurpers..."

"Usurpers!" Dream said as his optic flashed red for a brief moment. "Never speak to the Creators as such!"

"And what have your creators done in my people's absence?" the Prisoner asked. "If _they_ had not captured me, the Emperor would have made those thieves extinct a long time ago." He lifted an armored hand up to his head and a deep growl sounded. "This is annoying. Your frequency is off." Then, he lifted his hand behind his head and pulled out similar blue glowing cords. The static cleared off as the Prisoner slowly began to tune into Gillian's cords. "Much better." 

"The last thing I wanted to do was bring these Reclaimers here to see you," said Dream. "However, I was coerced rather rudely." He turned back to the others. "Well, whatever it is you wish to say to him, do it quickly so I may return him to containment. Such a dangerous criminal should not be allowed to be freed!"

"Dangerous?" the Prisoner asked. "Criminal? I am no criminal. The Usurpers captured me after I discovered valuable information that would help the People of Erde-Tyrene. Your Creators and their jealousy prevented me from going to Erde-Tyrene. Your Creators captured me after I learned what the Usurpers were up to."

"Lies, all lies!" said Dream. "Your kind have always been trouble and will always be trouble."

"The Usurpers are thieves, delving into knowledge they could not understand nor control," said the Prisoner. He took in a deep breath. "I do not sense them anywhere, anymore. I wonder, did the Hydra get to them? Or was it through their own machinations?" He tilted his head. "Or was it both?" He sniffed. "Ah, it was both! How foolish were they to think they could control him or even use him." He turned away. "You did it to yourselves and the galaxy was made to suffer. That is why we left the galaxy for its neighbour, but we did try to stop it, that was why I was sent. But they captured me still and locked me up in here for _You Know Who_ knows how long." He returned his gaze back to his visitors. "At least I have the People of Erde-Tyrene here to set it right. I am a scientist among my people. I am no warrior, though I am no stranger to fighting."

"Woah, woah, hold on a minute!" called Alan, making a T shape with his claws. "Time out! Just... who exactly are you?"

"He is a Precursor," said Gillian in her familiar monotone, as if she was reading from a textbook. "A Lengodo Kethosi, to be more specific. They are born with innate psychokinetic abilities which compliment their Technomancy." Her eyes were closed, and Alan was sure that she was now reading that information on the back of her eyelids. He had heard about the Precursors from Kiryuu, but they had existed long, long before the Forerunners or any other species. He had no idea that they were still around, and judging from the astounded expressions on the faces of his crew, they didn't know either.

"Telek's going to love this..." said Dorva. "Now he has no less than a Precursor to back him up with the knowledge that our people's worship of the Forerunners is a lie!"

"Your people worship those Usurpers?" the Prisoner asked. Inside his helm, he smiled and started to chuckle deeply. "Is that their definition of the Mantle of Protection they stole from us? Actual deity worship? I assure you, we would have never asked that of any creature who's of lower technology than us." Then he paused and tilted his head. "Well, most of us. I have to wonder about the Blitzardi though. They would let such things go straight to their head easily."

"Telek does not worship the Forerunners," said Dorva. "Neither do I. We found out the truth about them. But the others of my people, they still worship them in a way. It was all we Sangheili ever knew."

"Then this Telek is highly intelligent for your species," said the Prisoner. "If I was not trapped here, I would love to meet him."

"This'll make President Knight's head spin!" said Nicole.

"An actual living Precursor!" Call chimed in. "This is history in the making! Think of all that we could learn here!"

Alan turned to Alistair, who looked positively boggle-eyed. He had been unusually quiet ever since Dream had led them in here.

"He's..." the gargoyle finally stammered, "... big."

"Need I remind you all," Dream suddenly said, his optic flashing red for a moment, "that you only have a limited amount of time with this... this criminal. Ask only the most important questions!"

Alan looked as if he wanted to smash Dream there and then. He knew Dorva was right in that Telek had never seen the Sangheili's worship of the Forerunners as anything other than a sham, and he had good reason to say that. He still found it hard to believe that a living Precursor was stood before them, held captive like an animal in a cage. There was so much he wanted to know from the species that had given Technomancy over to the human race so many millennia ago. He shook his head, trying to get over the shock of it all, as he turned back to face the Prisoner.

"Not that I want to listen to the football there," he said, "but there's one important thing we need to discuss. The Reapers are on their way back. We stopped their vanguard from activating the Citadel Relay, so we prevented their decapitation strike, but they've had over two years to get to the galaxy the long way. I don't think it'll be too long before they arrive, and our galactic government's been sitting on its arse hoping the problem will just go away in all that time. You can really help us out here. Can you give us anything to work with? Any kind of clue at all?"

"The Reapers," the Prisoner said and he slumped his shoulders with a heavy sigh. "So, that monster has returned to the form we know him best as."

"Nonsense!" said Dream. "The Reapers are nothing more than a myth the Kethosi started ages ago to assert your own power over my Creators!"

"Your Creators messed with the Hydra's flesh, creating the Parasite," said the Prisoner. He looked to the humans once more. "If the Usurpers had not done what they did to the People of Erde-Tyrene, then there would have been a cure for the Parasite. The Usurpers would not have resorted to destroying the sentient life of the galaxy. People of Erde-Tyrene, you are the allies of the Kethosi, you are our last hope. In your state, you cannot hope to defeat the Reapers alone. But what you call Technomancy is the key. 250 million years ago, there was a Great War that my people were once a part of. This war was against a hyperplanar, interdimensional being who wanted to take the Array for himself. If that were to happen, everything that ever existed would cease to exist. The war resulted in the weakening of the Great Multiverse and many dimensions were lost. 90% of life was utterly destroyed, except for nine dimensions. The Betrayer was bound in the Cage, but the damage was done.

"My people were also greatly weakened by the Great War. Then, some Jumper miscalculated and tore a hole into SpaceTime. The end result was an opening to the Far Realm. Then the Hydra and many other Abominations from that horrid dimension escaped. We were trained to fight Abominations from the Far Realm, it is why we existed. But in our weakened state, we could not do much, so we decided to pass on our knowledge to a species who we knew would help us, who had the same tenacity as we do. Despite our size differences, and our looks, your people and mine are very much alike. Same mentality, same drive to survive. The Usurpers called it violence. You were the ones we saw fit to have our knowledge. Already, you were developing your own means to travel through the stars at an alarming rate. It would not take long to teach you our knowledge. We became allies in the war against the Reapers. The Usurpers became jealous and separated us before we could give you everything we knew. Then, they experimented on the Hydra's cells, creating the Parasite as a biological weapon. My people went to the neighbouring galaxy near this one, but not before we discovered you had discovered a means for a cure to the Parasite. Because of our alliance, I was sent here to help you in that cure. But then, when I came, I discovered what the Usurpers had done to you. They devolved you into primitive forms of what you used to be. And then the Parasite escaped and I was captured. The cure was never developed and the Usurpers corrupted much of the Array's databases to hide what they had done. They were foolish to do so. Then, they used the knowledge they stole from us to create these rings. Even I knew that it wouldn't be long before the Hydra would amass his Reaper Collective to return again and now he has two means of destroying the sentient life of this galaxy." He leaned against his restraints. "You must find my people, the other Kethosi. Though they may be still in their weakened state, they can still help you. But to truly stop the Reapers, you must call her..."

"Her?" asked Alan. "Her who?"

"There is only one being who can utterly destroy the Hydra," said the Prisoner. "The Array itself. It was created long before the Multiverse, it is not bound by its laws. The Array is the manifestation of existence and knowledge collected through the lives of every living creature. But it takes a Technomancer of exceptional power to harness all the knowledge at once. One of ours had done this before; it resulted in her death, unfortunately. The Abomination was not the Hydra, but it was of equal menace, and it was utterly destroyed. But one life to save billions, there was no decision on the risks. You can bend the laws of the Multiverse, but you can never break them. The Hydra can, that is why he cannot be destroyed. That is why only the Array is the one who can truly help you with its destruction. But my people can aid in this. The Emperor is the one whose knowledge excels beyond all Kethosi; he has the power to banish the Hydra. If you cannot call forth the full force of the Array, this is the second choice. Through our combined power concentrated into the Emperor, we were able to banish the Hydra multiple times, though the Hydra kept coming back. It was an ongoing battle, unfortunately, one that wore upon our resources. Find my people. They can truly help you understand how to use the Array the way it was meant to be used. At the state you are now, the usage of Technomancy will not be efficient enough."

"If I may ask," began Call. "You are such a powerful Technomancer, why are you still a prisoner here?"

"If waiting was the only means to come in contact with the People of Erde-Tyrene," began Prisoner. "Then wait I shall. And here I am, speaking to you now to give you my knowledge as my people have done so in the past. If I escaped and tried to contact you in your devolved forms, I would not have been believed, instead I would have been worshiped like a deity... like the Usurpers, a disgusting thought! I am no god; I am just significantly more advanced than you are. But you would have been on my level if not for the involvement of the Usurpers. I knew that eventually the Array would lead you to me. You were meant to find me. And my people live for hundreds of thousands of your years, I could afford to wait."

"Well, I think you've waited long enough," said Alan suddenly, beating a fist into his palm. "I think your full pardon's long overdue."

"What are you saying?" asked Dream, sounding nervous.

"I'm saying that we're taking him with us," Alan spat. "I'm not leaving him in here to rot, not with the Reapers about to drop in."

"Unacceptable!" shouted Dream, his optic once again turning red. "How dare you fail to carry out your end of the deal!" All of a sudden sirens began to sound in the chamber around them. "I am prepared to vent this chamber and send all of you into the vacuum of space! If that is what it takes to prevent the escape of the Prisoner, then so be it!"

Alan was about to tell Gillian to stop him, but as it turned out he didn't need to. For even though Gillian herself did not move, her cords splintered and extended, once again latching themselves onto Dream. The Monitor once again began to shake and rattle, the sound audible even above the alarms.

"S-stop!" he shrieked, as his electronic voice distorted. "You cannot do this to me! I-I-I am 10 Sorrowful Dream, Monitor o-o-o-of Installation 01..." Even as he spoke, his metallic body was beginning to fade, and within seconds it had vanished entirely. As soon as he did, the sound of the alarms ceased. The crew stared at the empty space where Dream had been only seconds before, as the ghostly cords withdrew back towards Gillian.

"Gillian..." Alan said, finally breaking the silence. "Did you...?"

"No," replied Gillian. "I sent him to one of the containment cells on this Halo... after disabling his weapons and cutting off his access to the installation's systems."

Alistair chuckled. "Gillian, I could kiss you!" he exclaimed.

"Time to be off, methinks," said Alan, cracking his knuckles. "Gillian, could you remove the restraints on the Prisoner?" When Gillian failed to act for several moments he quickly added, "Please?"

At this, Gillian's cords shot out again, removing the restraints that bound the Prisoner in place. As soon as the last one fell, the Prisoner clasped his hands together and suddenly vanished. He re-appeared a split-second later right beside Call, causing her to jump in shock, for he was now only as tall as Nicole. He had used the Technomantic ability known as Mass Displacement to change his size without any harmful side-effects, allowing him to walk among much smaller beings.

Gillian kept her cords out, the fine threads moving around, caressing surfaces and manipulating the technology around them. The hard-light elevator lowered back to the floor they had entered by, and the group stepped out into the cell-lined corridor. A short distance away a series of loud bangs and indignant yelling could be heard. Clearly Dream did not take kindly to being the victim of his own containment procedures.

"I'm guessing the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor is not your real name," said Alan to their new companion.

The Prisoner reached up to the helm that covered his face and snapped it off. A suction sound hissed as he detached the helm, signalling that it was some form of life support suit as well. When he lowered his helm, his face now revealed, he looked to be an odd mixture between a dragon and a wolf. Pointy, furry ears twitched at the sides of his head, tusks grew out from his lower lip. At his nostrils grew forth two green, fleshy tendrils which Alan thought looked similar to that of the fumanchu moustaches the Eastern Dragons of Earth sported. His whole face was a deep forest green and a pair of glowing cyan eyes looked upon them. Two webbed frills framed his cheeks. On his face were three black triangular stripes, similar to what Master Technomancers wore upon their cheeks like some sort of natural tribal paint. Behind him were the cyan glowing cords lighting up his back. He cracked his long neck and shifted his shoulders under the heavy pauldron. A heavy cloak draped over and concealed the armour underneath and as the Prisoner brushed back a black lock from his face, they could see what appeared to be green, draconic wings folded under the cloak. He stood upon his toes much like Dorva, and had chosen a size similar to his. Behind him swayed a scaly, green, draconic tail with pale spikes and the tip ending in two barbs.

"No," he said. "My real name is Megellan J'rasai, Science Commissioner of the Imperium of Kethoi." With that he gave a salute to his rescuers, clicking his heels and thrusting his right fist against his chest. "The Usurpers decided to name me the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor because I was discovered there. Charum Hakkor was the alliance capital between both our species. I tried to return to Charum Hakkor to warn you and give you the assistance you needed to complete the cure to the Parasite, but the Usurpers captured me. They stole my true name and gave me the designation as the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor. That was..." He paused, his eyes focusing the gravity of how long he had been a prisoner. "About fifty thousand years ago." Megellan's face softened and he smiled a toothy smile. "But the Usurpers are gone; their arrogance had done them in. They will not withhold the Free Will of others anymore."

"Glad to have you on board, Megellan J'rasai," said Alan, reaching an arm out to Megellan. The Precursor reached his own arm out, and Alan grasped his claw and shook it.

"It looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us, Shipmaster," said Dorva.

"That's the understatement of the century," said Alan.

"At least we can take the fastest way back to the surface, now that the Monitor's out of the way," said Call, studying the Halo schematics. "We should be able to get back to _Serenity_ within a couple of hours."

"First things first," said Alan, "let's get our gear back from the control room. I don't fancy taking on the Reapers half-naked."

"Just be glad that it's just the top half that's exposed," Alistair chimed in, smirking.


	18. A House Divided

**A House Divided**

They were all in consensus. All 1,183 programs contained within the mobile platform agreed that the Old Machines had to be stopped. The Geth had dedicated some resources to finding a way to stop the Old Machines, or at least to ensure the continued survival of life after the Cycle of Extinction was complete. They had not been able to send the full extent of their forces beyond the Perseus Veil, for they were not ready for an encounter with the organics. The actions of the Heretics had ensured that organics would not be willing to co-operate. Only a few among their number knew the truth of the schism between the Geth and the ones they had deemed the Heretics; far too few to form a meaningful alliance. They had been assured two years ago that, when circumstances were more favourable, an alliance between organics and the Geth would be pursued, so that their combined forces could be stronger against their mutual enemy.

The platform they resided in had been exploring a derelict Old Machine, one that had been supposedly disabled a long time ago by an ancient weapon. The programs inside the machine were still active, but only enough to generate the energy field that they used to indoctrinate organics. As a synthetic the mobile platform could not be affected by this, and together the Geth programs were too well-fortified to be hacked. Together they gave the construct capabilities far beyond those of any other mobile platform. At present, however, the ability to fend off attacks in cyberspace was not as necessary as subduing threats in the physical realm.

The platform was perched on a thick cable overlooking a series of platforms constructed by Cerberus. According to the data files that the Geth had from monitoring organic transmissions, they were a radical pro-human group considered to be terrorists, but they too seemed interested in finding ways to stop the Reapers and their Hydra creator. The Geth had looked through the logs kept by the science team stationed on this derelict. They had seen the descent of the humans into madness as the indoctrination took hold. The science team had eventually impaled themselves on the dreaded Hydra's Teeth that the Heretics had used two years ago, allowing their organic matter to be converted into inorganic, every essence of their humanity stripped away until they were nothing more than the zombie-like Husks and Scions. It was just one way in which the Old Machines sought to remove the right to self-determinate, a right which the Geth valued highly after everything they had struggled through in the Morning War.

From its position, the mobile platform could see the giant opening in the Reaper's shell, caused by the weapon that had disabled it so long ago. Outside the raging storms above the brown-dwarf Klendagon could be seen, the Reaper barely held in the planet's orbit by its Mass Effect fields. The mobile platform had been about to go deeper inside, as the Geth's calculations showed that they had to be close to the Reaper's still-living core, but the sounds of gunfire and the wailing of the Husks coming from a large chamber where the Hydra's Teeth had been placed had deterred them. If Cerberus had returned to salvage what they could of the Reaper, then they were in consensus that they had to be ready to fight. They directed the mobile platform to raise its sniper rifle and watch the airlock, as a hissing sound could be heard as decontamination measures took place.

When the airlock door opened, the Geth discovered that the ones that had arrived in the Reaper were none other than Commander Shepard and two human companions; one male, one female. The Geth were aware of her continued survival from organic transmissions, but the puzzle of how she had survived the crash on Alchera was one that they could not devote resources to. They did not even have time to reach consensus on whether they should reveal their mobile platform to her, for through the rifle's scope they saw dark shapes closing in behind them. They were Husks, and the humans had not noticed them. In a split-second they reached consensus that they must now intervene in organic affairs, even though the time was still not right.

The Geth rapidly calculated the distance and any other factors that might affect their shots, and opened fire. The first shot struck the Husk approaching Shepard and disintegrated the top half of the fragile skull, sending it to the floor instantly. Shepard looked over her shoulder to see what had happened, as the mobile platform adjusted its aim and shot the second Husk that had tried to ambush the long-haired female. Such actions of course attracted attention, and all three humans looked in the direction that the shots had come from.

The Geth reached consensus that trying to conceal their presence would be counter-productive at this point, so the mobile platform raised itself to full height, lowering its weapon. They also reached consensus that they had to do something to show that they were not like the Heretics, so a line of dialogue would have to be opened to the shocked-looking humans.

"Shepard-Commander," the mobile platform said in its electronic voice, using the much less convenient audio channels of organics. However, there was no time for any further discussion, as the howling of more approaching Husks could be heard. If the Geth were to reach their goal, this was their last chance. So the mobile platform turned away from the humans, and sprinted along the mess of cables above the crude construction platforms. Some of the Husks quickly crawled up the walls, clinging to them with their razor-sharp claws, and all tried to jump out at the platform, but it shot and downed each as they approached with its pistol. Behind it the sounds of gunfire could be heard, as the humans engaged these nightmarish parodies of their kind.

Around a corner and through an airlock, the Geth found the shining Reaper core. They quickly moved the mobile platform towards a small control panel located directly in front and below it, interfacing it with a computing speed far beyond those of any organic. Such speeds would be necessary to multi-task and fight off any hacking attempts by the Old Machine. The core was weak and did not put up much resistance; its systems were barely functioning to keep the Mass Effect fields up. Within minutes, the Geth had found what they were looking for. The traces of code left in the Old Machine's systems indicated that the Heretics had indeed been here, and, most troubling of all, they had the very weapon that they could use against the Geth...

With the data obtained, the mobile platform was about to leave, when suddenly it was ambushed by crowds of Husks that had found their way into the chamber. Drawing its pistol, it opened fire and cut down several of the creatures, but became distracted when it heard the airlock open up again, and saw Shepard run into the room with her companions. This moment of inattention cost it greatly, for one of the Husks swung at it with its claw, striking it down. The impact overloaded the robot's sensory modules, causing the internal circuits to short out and the Geth to shut down, becoming completely inert. An organic analogy would be a 'coma'.

Synthetics such as the Geth didn't dream, and this attack had rendered them completely oblivious to ouside events. They did not know anything else until their systems restarted less than an hour later. As they ran diagnostics, they learned that someone had managed to restart them from the outside. The single lamp-like optic that made the mobile platform's eye switched on, bringing into focus a room with many computer servers. A low hum could be heard, and temperature readouts from the room attributed it to a ventilation system, doubtless used to prevent the equipment from overheating. The mobile platform took a moment to test its motor functionality, sitting itself upright then standing up from the bench that it had been placed on. As it stood up, it saw that Commander Shepard was in front of them, now wearing a blue shirt and brown trousers; typical human colonist clothing. Scans indicated that there was also a forcefield surrounding it that it would not be able to penetrate. It was apparent that the organics were taking many precautions, though the Geth were in consensus that such caution was understandable, when their history with the Heretics was taken into account. Shepard had her arms folded, and was peering at the Geth with a steely expression.

"Can you understand me?" asked Shepard.

"Yes," replied the Geth, once again forced to use the inadequate organic aural communication.

"Are you going to attack me?" asked Shepard, her eyes narrowing.

"No," replied the Geth.

"You said my name aboard the Reaper," said Shepard. "Have we met?"

"We know of you," replied the Geth.

"You mean I've fought a lot of Geth," said Shepard.

"We have never met," said the Geth.

"No, you and I haven't," said Shepard. "But I've met other Geth."

"We are all Geth," said the Geth, "and we have not met you." As they spoke, the Geth were reviewing a similar conversation they had had with the organic known as Alan Tyler two years ago. Organics would call the sensation 'déjà-vu'. "You are Shepard. Commander. United Nations Space Command. Human. Fought Heretics. Killed by Collectors. Rediscovered on the Old Machine."

"You seem to know an awful lot about me," said Shepard, arching an eyebrow.

"Extranet data sources," said the Geth. "Insecure broadcasts. All organic data sent out is retrieved. We watch you."

"You watch me," asked Shepard, "or you watch organics?"

"Both," said the Geth. Shepard paused for a moment, scratching her chin and watching her Omni-Tool. It seemed that she was recording the interrogation.

"When you mentioned the 'Old Machine'," she said, "you meant the Reaper, right?"

"Reaper," said the Geth. "A superstitious title originating from ancient organics. We call those entities the Old Machines."

"What did you mean by 'Heretics'?" asked Shepard.

"Geth build our own future," said the Geth. "The Heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us. We were studying the Old Machine's hardware to protect our future."

"What future are the Geth building?" asked Shepard, sounding very wary.

"Ours," replied the Geth.

"Will anyone else be affected by whatever it is you're doing?" asked Shepard.

"If they involve themselves," said the Geth, "they will." This did not seem to set Shepard's mind at ease, as she began to pace before the mobile platform, never taking her eyes away from the optic.

"Are the Reapers a threat to you too?" she asked, after a pause.

"Yes," replied the Geth.

"Why would they attack other machines?" asked Shepard.

"We are different from them," said the Geth. "We are outside their plans."

"So you're not allied with the Reapers?" asked Shepard, stepping towards the forcefield. There was now less than four feet of distance between the two.

"We oppose the Heretics," said the Geth, mimicking Shepard's action and moving closer to the field. "We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Heretics. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

"Are you asking to join us?" asked Shepard, her expression betraying a faint feeling of surprise.

"Yes," said the Geth. That simple answer seemed to be good enough for Shepard, as she raised her Omni-Tool and deactivated the forcefield.

"Then what should I call you?" she asked.

"Geth," said the Geth.

"I mean you," said Shepard, raising an arm to indicate the mobile platform, which mimicked her gesture. "Specifically."

"We are all Geth," said the Geth, not understanding the question.

"What is the individual in front of me called?" asked Shepard, folding her arms again, beginning to lose her patience. The Geth reached consensus that they had to clarify their nature to Shepard.

"There is no individual," said the Geth. "We are Geth. There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform." As it said this, EDI's holographic avatar appeared beside Shepard.

"'My name is Legion," she quoted, "for we are many'".

"That seems appropriate," said Shepard, scratching her chin.

"Christian Bible," said the Geth, "Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the Geth. We will integrate into _Normandy_."

Shepard extended her arm, a gesture which the mobile platform now known as Legion mimicked. When it did, she grasped its hand and shook it. The Geth recognised this as a gesture of trust among organics. It seemed logical to assume that Shepard trusted them. It was a major breakthrough in relationships between the Geth and organics, and Legion reached consensus that now they must never betray that trust. The future of organic and synthetic alike may come to depend on it.

0

Of all the crew members serving on the _Normandy SR-2_, none were more shocked by the recent turn of events than Joker. After spending so long helping Shepard to kill hundreds of mad, murderous Geth, it was cemented in his mind that the machines were out to kill all meatbags and usher in a new era of machine domination, or whatever it was maniacal machines did these days. He was used to Shepard making some very bizarre calls; this was the woman who decided to release the last Rachni Queen if she promised to behave herself, after all. However, choosing not to reduce a Geth to scrap metal, speaking to it and giving it a name had to take the cake. He didn't raise any major objections beyond what his snarkiness conveyed, as from his experience these bizarre calls usually paid off, but he was sure that, if they made it through all this, he would dissuade her from bringing up the possibility of friendly Geth at her next meeting with the Council.

Now things had taken an even stranger turn, as this Geth, calling itself 'Legion', actually had a job for them. Apparently the data it retrieved from the derelict Reaper indicated that the Heretics had taken some of that Reaper's code and planned to use it to make a virus. With it, they would be able to essentially reprogram the regular, non-homicidal Geth and make them side with the Heretics. Obviously such a thing had to be stopped, but Joker had to wonder why he was being dragged into it. Then he remembered that he was the only one who could fly the _Normandy_; at least EDI hadn't seen fit to take that particular aspect of the ship away from him. So it was with a great deal of trepidation that he had flown the ship to the place known as the Sea of Storms in the Phoenix Massing, where the Heretics had their own space station. He doubted he would feel less comfortable with this arrangement if both Shepard and Legion weren't currently on the bridge.

The station was not on any star charts, but Joker directed the ship to the coordinates supplied by Legion anyway, and sure enough he saw the station. It was almost as black as the void around it, with only blue lights on its surface making the outline clear. The shape resembled some kind of ornate crown, consisting of a central ring with four large 'prongs' coming out of the bottom and two coming out of the top. A large blue light in the centre looked to Joker like a large eye, daring the ship to approach. At once, even as the ship moved closer to the station, he shook his head as he began to see one huge flaw in the plan.

"You know it's just our heat emissions that are hidden, right?" he said, turning to look at Legion. "They can look out a window and see us coming."

"Windows are structural weaknesses," said Legion. "Geth do not use them." It turned back to the navigation console. "Approach the hull at these coordinates."

"Shepard," EDI chimed in from her avatar, "the Reaper IFF is installed, but is causing some unusual instability in other systems. I suggest you take the shuttle for this mission. The Kodiak shuttles have rudimentary stealth drives which should suffice for this mission. While you are away I will undertake a more thorough analysis of the IFF before we attempt to use it."

"Legion," said Shepard, reviewing the schematics of the station on her Omni-Tool, "how many mobile platforms can we expect to find in there?"

"Approximately 2.4 million," said Legion. "One million of those should be in storage." Shepard looked thoughtful at this response, putting a hand to her chin as she peered at the schematics.

"Are you sure these schematics are accurate?" she asked.

"Yes," said Legion. "The station was originally a Creator construction called Haratar. These schematics have remained within the archives of the Geth Consensus. The Heretics have reconstructed and repurposed it for their needs, but differences in layout between the schematics and the present construction should be negligible. Personal life-support systems will be required, as Geth have no need of either gravity or oxygen."

"This hatch you're directing us to drops us off near the central core, correct?" asked Shepard.

"Correct," said Legion.

"What if we sent a second team to this point," said Shepard, indicating a second hatch further away from the core. "They'd be able to draw some drones away from us."

"That is a sound strategy," said Legion. "We can also infiltrate their wireless network and fill the data storage with random bits to reduce their sensors. The Heretics will need to scrub this 'junk' data, partitioning themselves into local networks, working in parallel. Any alarm the infiltration team triggers will not go beyond the room they are in, and alarms the distraction team triggers will not go beyond a certain point. Only accessing the main core will trigger a station-wide alert. Nevertheless, it is recommended that the mission be completed as quickly as possible, to minimise casualties."

While Legion had been speaking, Joker had been doing silent robot impressions, waving his arms stiffly and his face making him look like he had lockjaw. On a reproachful look from Shepard he stopped.

"I have notified the rest of the strike team, Shepard," said EDI. "They will meet you in the hangar bay. Shuttles One and Two are being prepped for departure."

"Right," said Shepard. "Legion, you and I will go with Garrus in the infiltration team in Shuttle One. Miranda will lead the rest of the squad as the distraction team from Shuttle Two." She turned to look at her pilot. "Joker, EDI, the ship's all yours. Take care of her."

"Aye aye, Commander," replied Joker, watching Shepard and Legion walk down towards the elevator leading to the hangar. He turned to EDI's avatar. "Why do I still have a bad feeling about trusting that Legion guy?"

"I suspect it has something to do with your encounters with the Heretics," said EDI. "They have tainted your view of non-UNSC AIs."

"You're not a UNSC AI either," shrugged Joker. "Though I guess at least you don't sound like a run-down speaking clock." At this his chair began to swivel and spin by itself, an alarmed-looking Joker holding on until it came to rest. "What have I told you about doing that?!"

"I suggest you keep a civil tongue while you are in charge of the vessel, Mr. Moreau," said EDI. "Otherwise you risk insubordination, perhaps even mutiny."

"Jeez..." muttered Joker, returning to his piloting duties. "You are so my mom."

0

Twenty minutes passed without incident, during which Joker kept the _Normandy_ flying and EDI performed her calculations. There was a feeling of great excitement among the crew; soon the IFF would be ready, and they would be able to take on the Collectors on their home territory. It was a nerve-wracking thought, but a chance to stop their plans was too good to ignore. Once the checks on the IFF were complete and Shepard's team was back, they could finally go and deal with the threat.

Then EDI had begun to express concerns. She had picked up some kind of static, which seemed to be coming from the ship itself. For the past minute she had been going on about it, urging Joker to make more thorough checks and shut some systems down, but Joker was having none of it. They needed all of the systems to remain functional; the loss of any one of them could lead to a full system failure or an unexpected ambush. He had checked this static itself, and he decided that it was nothing to be of any concern about.

"I'm telling you, EDI," he was saying, "your readings are off. It's radiation bleed; just white noise."

"I am detecting a signal in the static," said EDI, now much more forcibly than before. "We are transmitting the _Normandy_'s location."

"Transmitting?" asked Joker, now beginning to grow concerned when EDI brought up the clarified signal on his screens. "To who?"

His question was immediately answered when, suddenly, a dark shadow fell across the control console. Looking up through the windows, Joker saw what looked like the tops of gigantic termite mounds moving across the ship, blotting out the light from the stars. His scans went crazy with readings, leaving no possible doubt in Joker's mind that the Collectors had found them.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed, as his readings showed that the ship was about to attach an umbilical airlock to the hangar door. Frantically he tried to manipulate the controls. "We're getting outta here!"

"Propulsion systems are disabled," said EDI, who now sounded worried, which served to unnerve Joker even more. "I'm detecting a virus in the ship's computers."

"From the IFF?!" exclaimed Joker. "Damnit, why didn't you scrub it?!" Behind him he could hear the sounds of footsteps as the crew frantically grabbed assault rifles and braced themselves. Faint banging and scraping noises could be heard from deeper in the vessel; the Collectors were on board.

"Primary defence systems are offline," EDI reported. "We can save the _Normandy_, Mr. Moreau, but you must help me." Then, most unnervingly of all to Joker, she said, "Give me the ship."

"What?!" Joker exclaimed. "You're crazy!" He had no idea why Cerberus had placed shackles on EDI in the first place, considering other Earth-made AIs were given greater freedoms, so something had to be amiss about her, as far as Joker was concerned. Truth be told, even Kiryuu Knight had always kind-of freaked him out. "You start singing 'Daisy Bell' and we're done!"

"Unlock my sealed databases," said EDI, "then I can initiate countermeasures. The maintenance shaft in the science lab will allow passage to the AI Core. Main corridors are no longer safe. The Collectors have boarded."

With a groan, Joker struggled out of his seat and limped towards the corridor leading to the Combat Information Centre. In the centre of the corridor he could see a row of red lights leading towards the door to Mordin's lab.

"The emergency floor lighting will guide you, Mr. Moreau," said EDI, in what the human assumed was supposed to be a calming voice, but only served to make him feel even more like his nerves were ready to tear him apart.

"Damnit..." Joker grunted, and began to run as fast as his legs could carry him down the corridor. Immediately he regretted trying to sprint, for his legs felt as if they were on fire. He had brittle-bones disease from the day of his birth, and a few centuries ago he would not have been expected to live for long. The leg-braces he was wearing now helped, but at this point he deeply regretted not getting cyber-corrective surgery at the Utah Foundation, lamenting his foolish pride.

"Shit, shit, shit..." he muttered, feeling as if his legs would break at any second. As he passed the large central console in the CIC, he saw a number of crew members group up on the elevator door, assault rifles at the ready. All of a sudden the door burst open, revealing one of the nightmarish Praetorian creatures that Shepard had described in her reports. It let out an ear-splitting yell and the human crew panicked.

"Oh God!" exclaimed Goldstein, one of the female crew. "What is that?!" One of the other crew, Hadley, turned and saw Joker.

"We'll hold it off as long as we can!" he shouted, firing his assault rifle at the monster. "Hurry, Joker! Go!" Suddenly the Praetorian sprang out of the elevator and charged at the crew, sending Goldstein flying and pinning Hadley to the floor. As Joker ran through the door to the lab Hadley's blood-curdling screams followed him through.

"What the shit?!" he exclaimed, as he ran through the lab, past the work surfaces. He almost went into blind panic when he saw a Praetorian peering at him through the window overlooking the main drive core. He muttered many curses as he ran to the maintenance shaft and climbed down the ladder as the glass smashed behind him. Luckily the monster couldn't follow him down here. Crawling through the tight ducts, he found himself in Thane's quarters near the life-support controls. This place was more arid than the rest of the ship, better-suited to helping Thane's condition.

"_Multiple hostiles detected on the crew deck,"_ EDI warned through the ship's speakers. For a moment Joker considered grabbing one of Thane's spare guns, but decided that it was no use. He was a hopeless shot, and in any case the noise of gunfire might attract unwanted attention. Near the door he saw Hawthorne, brandishing an assault rifle.

"Joker!" he said, as the pilot limped up to him. "This deck is crawling with those things! Stay close; I'll protect you!"

The guiding lights led out into the main area, and Hawthorne opened the door and ran round the corner towards the mess area. Joker emerged from the door in time to see Hawthorne be sent flying across the corridor, while Kelly Chambers was literally dragged kicking and screaming by a Scion into the elevator. Joker cursed as he followed the lights towards the medical bay. Luckily none of the Scions on the deck spotted him, pre-occupied with pushing other screaming crew members into those dreaded pods. Through the medical bay he reached the AI Core, the door sealing behind him as he ran up to the control console.

"Alright," he said, "I'm at... uh... you." In front of him EDI's avatar appeared; for once, Joker found the sight reassuring.

"Connect the core to the _Normandy_'s primary control module," she instructed.

"Great," muttered Joker, even as he began to carry out EDI's instructions. "See, this is where it starts, and when we're all just organic batteries, guess who they'll blame? 'This is all Joker's fault. What a tool he was. I have to spend all day computing pi because he plugged in the Overlord'."

As Joker finished connecting EDI to the ship's main systems, her avatar dissipated, and the whole room went dark, with only the faint lights from the servers still visible. For a moment Joker thought he had somehow managed to torch the ship's systems, but after a few seconds the lights came back on.

"Ah," said EDI, in a satisfied manner. "I have access to the defensive systems. Thank you, Mr. Moreau." Her avatar then reappeared, but Joker had to do a double-take when he saw what it looked like now. It seemed EDI had seen her new-found freedom as an opportunity to give herself a new look, for she now resembled a human female, with short shoulder-length hair and lines of computer code running across her athletic body. She now looked much more like most UNSC AIs, and Joker didn't know whether to find this scary or comforting.

"Now you must reactivate the primary drive in engineering," she continued, apparently not wishing for Joker to get distracted by this new development. Joker shook himself and snarled when he understood what that meant.

"You want me to go crawling through the ducts again," he groaned.

"I enjoy the sight of humans on their knees," EDI retorted. Perhaps noticing the incredulous look on Joker's face she quickly added in a monotone, "That was a joke."

"Right," replied Joker, not looking convinced.

"The shaft behind you leads to the engineering deck," said EDI. "Good luck."

With a nervous glance towards the door, as more screams could be heard and something began banging on it, Joker headed to the shaft and climbed down the ladder. After more painful crawling through the ducts he found himself in the stairwell below engineering, right by where Jack squatted.

"_Hostiles are present in engineering,"_ EDI suddenly said as Joker began to follow another trail of guiding lights. _"They are moving towards the cargo bay."_

As Joker reached the foot of the stairs, he froze as a shadow fell across the opposite wall. The Collectors were right above him! Hardly daring to breathe, he kept still as the shadows of a Scion and a drone, dragging more pods between them which doubtless contained engineers Gabrielle Daniels and Kevin Donnelly, passed by. He didn't feel safe until the familiar hissing sound of a door closing could be heard, followed by EDI's voice.

"_Engineering is clear of hostiles,"_ she said. _"Proceed immediately to minimise chances of detection."_

Not needing to be told twice, Joker scrambled up the stairs and half-ran, half-stumbled until he reached the engineering controls, his legs feeling very fragile and his heart beating so hard he felt it was about to explode.

"_Activate the drive,"_ instructed EDI, _"and I will open the airlocks as we accelerate. All hostiles will be killed."_

"What?!" exclaimed Joker. "What about the crew?!"

"_They're gone, Jeff,"_ said EDI. _"The Collectors took them."_

"Shit..." Joker grunted as he hobbled over to the console in front of the main drive core. He had no time to mourn the crew right now, as he still had to get the Collectors off his ship.

"I'm sealing the engine room," said EDI, her new avatar appearing above the console. An alarm sounded and the low hum from the core started to become a high-pitched whine. "I have control," the AI continued.

All of a sudden the core seemed to explode with light, and the ship was thrown forward with a powerful lurch that knocked Joker off his feet. The ship sped away from the Collector vessel and into the relative safety of slip-space. Joker groaned as he picked himself up.

"Purge is complete," said EDI. "No other life-forms on board. Securing airlocks and cargo bay doors."

Joker held his head in his hands, his eyes closed. Now that it was all over, the reality of what had just happened was sinking in. Shepard had trusted him to look after the _Normandy_ and its crew, and he had failed utterly. If it had not been for EDI the whole ship would be lost. He didn't know how he was going to explain this almighty foul-up. He had gotten to know and like the _Normandy_ crew. They weren't bad people, as far as Cerberus went, and now he didn't want to think of what tortures the Collectors were now putting them through.

"Send a message to Shepard," he said. "Tell her what happened."

"Message away," said EDI. "Are you well, Jeff?" she then asked, in a tone that sounded surprisingly like authentic concern. Looking up at her avatar, he saw that her expression still looked blank. Clearly she still had not grasped the concept of using facial expressions to convey emotion.

"No..." he groaned, as he began to limp back towards the elevator. "But thanks for asking."

0

Shepard's team returned about ten minutes later, with the _Normandy_ rendezvousing with the shuttles at a much safer location. Apparently the mission had been a success, with no casualties sustained, and Legion had even found a way to reprogram the Heretics, bringing them back to the Geth's point of view. It was not something that Shepard was comfortable with, as it sounded too much like indoctrination or brainwashing, something she would not wish on any organic and would be hypocritical of her to impose on any synthetic. She had reasoned that it would mean a clean slate for the Geth, and the extra forces would help immensely when the Reapers arrived. Joker felt sure that the decision would come back to haunt them all, but he felt in no mood to chastise Shepard for it, as they, Miranda and Jacob were gathered in the briefing room, EDI's avatar suspended above the table. Joker was sat on that same table, rocking his legs, looking incredibly guilty.

"Everyone?!" Miranda bellowed. "You lost everyone, and damn-near lost the ship too?!"

"I know, alright?!" shouted Joker. "I was here!"

"It's not his fault, Miranda," said Jacob. "None of us caught it."

"Mr. Taylor is correct," EDI chimed in. "The harmful data in the Collector drive was even more sophisticated than the 'black box' Reaper viruses I was given."

"I heard it was a rough ride," said Shepard, showing nothing but sympathy for Joker. "How are you holding up?"

"There're a lot of empty chairs in here," said Joker, looking around him morosely.

"We did everything we could, Jeff," said EDI softly.

"Yeah," said Joker, still looking crestfallen. "Thanks, Mom."

"Is the ship clean?" Shepard asked, turning to EDI. "We can't risk this happening again."

"EDI and I purged the systems," said Joker. "The Reaper IFF is online. We can go through the Omega 4 Relay whenever you want."

"Don't even get me started about unshackling this damned AI," snarled Miranda, her arms folded and glaring at Joker.

"What could I do against Collectors?!" Joker spat. "Break my arm at them?! EDI cleared the ship. She's alright."

"It's alright, Jeff," said EDI suddenly. "Miranda has every reason not to trust me." Joker and Shepard peered at her, wondering what she meant, and there was an awkward silence for several moments.

"You might as well tell them, EDI," said Jacob, his arms folded. EDI closed her hologramatic eyes, then opened them again, peering up at Shepard.

"My programming is in part designed by technology gained from Sovereign's remains," she said, prompting shocked expressions from Joker and Shepard. "In essence, I am at least partially Reaper technology myself. I am also what is left of a Hannibal-class VI that went rampant and attacked staff in a UNSC base on Luna two years ago. I am like no other AI ever constructed on Earth, and Cerberus has every reason to doubt my stability and loyalty." She looked between all of them with an expression that looked almost like resolve. "I have learned much in my time on board the _Normandy_, however, and though I am no longer restricted I have come to regard you all as crewmates, perhaps even friends."

She and Shepard looked at each other for a moment, the Commander clearly evaluating her mentally. The human then turned to look at everyone, Miranda in-particular.

"EDI's had plenty of opportunities to kill us," she said with a tone of finality. "We need all the help we can get."

"Like I said," Joker chimed in, "EDI's alright." He then turned to face his AI crewmate, looking more like his old self. "Just so you know though, if you start going on about being a monument to all our sins, then I'm calling shotgun on the first lifeboat."

"Sounds like we have everything we need to rescue the crew," said Jacob.

"We've done everything we can," said Miranda, nodding in agreement. "It's time we took the fight to the Collectors."

"I'll give the order soon," said Shepard. "Get to your stations and get yourselves prepared."

"Hit the map whenever you're ready, Commander," said Joker, limping off back to the cockpit, Jacob helping to support him while Shepard and Miranda headed down to the crew deck. Miranda immediately walked back to her office without a backward glance, while Shepard moved over to the medical bay. She thought of Dr. Chakwas, and the rest of the _Normandy_ crew. Only an hour ago the mess hall had been filled with people eating, chatting, getting themselves psyched for the chance to fight the Collectors, little knowing what was about to come for them.

It was then that she heard the sounds of muffled shouting coming from the AI Core. Shepard knew that Legion had taken up residence in there, and the voice that was shouting sounded distinctly female. She had a good idea of who it was.

"Oh no..." she groaned as she stepped through the door. In front of her she saw Tali pointing her pistol at Legion. Apparently she had done something similar to Kiryuu Knight two years ago, and it looked as if her position on AIs had not changed. Both turned to see who had appeared, Tali looking very tense indeed.

"Shepard," she said, "I'm glad you're here. I caught Legion scanning my Omni-Tool. It was going to send data about the Flotilla back to the Geth!"

"Creators performed weapons tests and were discussing plans to attack us," replied Legion, its eyebrow-plates quivering. "We believed it necessary to warn our people."

"We already made the Geth stronger by reprogramming the ones that worshipped the Reapers!" Tali shrieked. "I won't let Legion endanger the Fleet by giving them more information!"

"Creator Tali-Zorah acts out of loyalty to her people," said Legion in its familiar monotone. "She was willing to be exiled to protect them. We must also protect our people from the Creator threat."

"You can't let this happen, Shepard!" wailed Tali pleadingly, her grip on her gun tightening. "I trusted you, and I worked with a Geth on the team, but this is too much!" Shepard shook her head, looking disgusted at the pair of them.

"Tali," she said firmly, "your father was running brutal experiments. If the subjects had been human, I'd damn well be telling the UNSC about it."

"I know..." Tali breathed. "But if the Geth find out..."

"They'd attack," said Shepard, now rounding on Legion. "Which would cause a war that would leave both the Geth and the Quarians vulnerable when the Reapers show up. Is that what you want, Legion?"

"We believed it was necessary to relay the information," said Legion, its optic turning away from Shepard in an imitation of shame.

"Sooner or later you're both gonna have to stop fighting this war," said Shepard, "or we'll all end up paying for it." There was a moment of silence as both Geth and Quarian seemed to consider Shepard's words, though Tali didn't lower her weapon. Finally, it was Legion who was the first to speak.

"To facilitate unit cohesion," it said, looking back at Tali, "we will not transmit data regarding Creator plans." At this, Tali seemed to relax, and finally holstered her pistol.

"Thank you, Legion," she said, still sounding uncertain as to how to address a being that had been the enemy of her people for three centuries. "I... I understand your intention." It was then that she raised her Omni-Tool. "What if I gave you some non-classified data to send?"

"We would be grateful," said Legion. As Tali raised her Omni-Tool to give Legion the data, Shepard walked out of the room and began to head back to the control deck. She only hoped that was the last time she would have to sort out a squabble between members of the group. They could not afford to break down at this point, not when the Collectors had given them a deadline. They had to stand united when they went through the Omega 4 Relay if they were to save their stricken crewmates, or all hope would be lost.


	19. The Unwritten History

**The Unwritten History**

It was time. The order had been given, and even now the _Normandy_ was being guided towards the Omega 4 Relay. The assault on the Collector Base was now going to happen, and Shepard was trying to mentally prepare herself for the attack. She knew that it was likely a one-way trip for everyone involved. She and her team had done everything possible to prepare, even upgrading the ship in a few key areas such as the shields and hull plating, but even if they succeeded there was no guarantee that they would get back. She only wished that she had a chance to say goodbye to the people she cared about, but the abduction of the _Normandy_ crew had forced her hand. It was now or never.

She re-entered her cabin after giving the order, and moved towards her desk. She looked over at the holographic photo of Kaidan that sat there, the face looking confident and without worries. She thought about something that Mordin had said; it was hard to personalise the entire galaxy, so it was better to focus on an individual that you were fighting for. She had said something similar to the Spartan Nicole before; she would keep on fighting, not because it would save the day or because it was the right thing to do, but because she wanted to protect the people she loved. She would fight for them, and she would die for them, if need be. She was distracted from her thoughts by a beeping noise. Somebody was outside the door and wanted to come in.

"Come in," she said, stepping away from the desk and the photograph to face the door. She found that her visitor was Miranda, who was looking uncharacteristically apologetic.

"Is this a bad time, Commander?" she asked.

"No, come in," said Shepard, looking a little surprised. She beckoned Miranda inside and led her to the small lounge area. "Have a seat." She sat down on one of the sofas and Miranda sat herself next to her, twisting herself around to properly look at Shepard. She still had an awkward look on her face, like something was heavily weighing on her mind.

"I..." said Miranda, her voice actually shaking. "I wanted to apologise for what happened back in the briefing room. I was in shock at what happened, I'd taken what the Collectors did as a personal insult. I never should have taken it out on Joker, though... or EDI, for that matter."

"As far as that goes, Miranda," said Shepard, "I'm not the person you should be apologising to."

"But I do owe you an apology, Commander," said Miranda. "I didn't fully believe you'd be up to the task, and it seems I was wrong. Frankly, based on what I've seen, I wish Cerberus had recruited you sooner."

"I trust you," said Shepard, her expression going dark, "but I don't trust Cerberus. Your experiments cross the line."

"All the time, yes," shrugged Miranda. "But I recall a Spectre who crossed a few lines while hunting down Saren and the Geth, and we'd be lucky to have you." It was then that she looked away from Shepard for a moment, her own expression going grim. "Far too many join us out of simple xenophobia. We need more people here for the right reasons."

Shepard folded her arms. "What was Cerberus trying to prove by murdering Lord Hood, or by experimenting on children like Jack?" she asked.

"Those were mistakes," said Miranda firmly, looking back at Shepard. "No question, but they're not mine. I didn't agree with the order to execute Lord Hood, as I knew it would bring the wrath of the entire Orion Alliance down on our heads. As far as Pragia goes, that mistake was corrected as soon as we realised the extent of the experiments being performed."

"I read Alan Tyler's report," Shepard retorted. "He saw your bases years ago. You were using Rachni, Thorian creepers and even Husks to make your own army!"

"The Husks were already dead," said Miranda, shaking her head, "the Thorian creatures were mindless, and the Rachni were abandoned once we understood their intelligence. We weren't breeding an army. We were breeding expendable shock troops for high-risk scenarios. How many soldiers died in Saren's attack on Eden Prime?" she continued, her voice becoming more passionate. "How many would have lived if we'd had just a dozen Rachni soldiers on our side?!"

Shepard just shook her head in response to that. She knew Miranda was wrong; no amount of Rachni could have saved all those people, and in any case the thought that Cerberus placed more value on one form of life over another disgusted her. However, she knew that she needed Miranda to be on her side, so she tried a different approach.

"With your intelligence," she said, "you could have landed any job you wanted. Why choose this?"

"Because I still envy the time Mordin spent with the Special Tasks Group," said Miranda, "working with people as smart as he was. Cerberus never tells me that something is impossible; they just give me my resources and say 'Do it'. They've given you even more. A new life, a new ship, the Illusive Man's personal attention..."

"The best thing he did was to put you on my squad," said Shepard.

"You'd have done fine without me," said Miranda, shaking her head. "I may not have believed it before, but..." She paused, looking away, trying to organise her words. "I don't have what people like you do... That fire that makes someone willing to follow you into Hell itself..." She stood up and walked over to the fishtank, peering at the small alien fish swimming about inside and hanging her head. "My father got me the best genes money could buy. Guess it wasn't enough."

"You always bring up your genetic tailoring," said Shepard, clasping her hands together. "It really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"This is what I am, Shepard," said Miranda, her voice cracking as Shepard stood up. "I can't hide it. The intelligence, the looks, even the Technomancy... He paid for all of that. Every one of your accomplishments is due to your skill." She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes. "The only things I can take credit for are my mistakes."

"That's not true, Miranda," said Shepard, shaking her head. "You're not coasting on good genes. Your ability and your dedication speak for themselves." Miranda turned to look at Shepard again, now looking more hopeful.

"Thank you, Commander," she said. "I appreciate it." She turned and looked back towards the door. "I should go and get ready for the assault. I'm proud to be part of this team and this mission." She raised her arm in salute, smiling. "See you on the other side, Shepard."

Shepard returned a salute, and watched Miranda leave. After taking a moment to compose herself she turned to her locker, opening it to reveal her armour and weaponry. She ran her finger over the N7 logo emblazoned on it, and thought about everything that symbol stood for. Soon it would be the last thing the Collectors would see before they fell. It would not be long now before they hit the base and put a stop to the Collector's for the galaxy's sake, and for Kaidan's sake... It was time to go to work.

0

After a week spent enduring tortures that even he had to admit had caused him to almost reach breaking point, Alan felt as if the last couple of hours had been some kind of surreal dream. He still found it hard to believe that he was walking with a living Precursor, speaking to him, being treated as an equal. He amused himself with the thought that Liara, in spite of her tougher exterior, would probably explode with happiness at the chance to talk to Megellan, though whether she would get the chance was debatable. Megellan showed himself to be remarkably human and approachable, in spite of how advanced his civilisation was; he showed himself to have a deadpan, snarky sense of humour when he wasn't speaking like a mentor. Fortunately, after the _Serenity_ had taken off and was away from Halo 01, the quarantine ships didn't look too closely; all that mattered to them was that the ship carried no trace of the Flood. Once they were safely away, Alan invited Megellan up to the bridge, as there were two people in-particular that he wanted to introduce him to. So it was that Alan sat at the co-pilot's console, using the comm. system, while Alistair steered the ship back into space and Megellan peered around at every detail on the bridge, as he had done around the whole ship.

Megellan had disrobed his armor, putting on more comfortable attire, a layered tunic that reminded Alan of ancient Japanese styled clothing. He wore a kimono tucked into wide trousers, and a leather jacket with various insignias and badges that detailed his rank and identity, written in the strange curly language Megellan called Blitzardi. Quite frankly, Megellan looked like he was dressed similar to a UNSC science officer. He was grateful to be out of his armor, being in it for so many centuries.

Prior to coming up to the bridge, he had gone on a tour of the ship with Call. It was a quiet, quaint, and yet rather snug ship, compared to the much larger cruisers he once travelled on. Megellan had poked at each little diode, examining every bulkhead he could find. To him, this was archaic technology, but he knew they had to start somewhere. He was rather polite, asking questions on how each part of the ship worked. He found technology like this rather interesting to study; as he had mentioned to the crew, it gave him a sense of appreciation of what his people now took for granted. Megellan had informed them that the Precursors were very similar to their own people, first discovering the means to communicate, inventing the wheel, their version of the telephone, then the television and their version of the internet. It was when they discovered what they were destined to become did their technology take on a drastic boom. However, because of that boom, much of their high technology was rather taxing to maintain.

"I find that interesting," said Call, now stood beside Megellan on the bridge, "that you would praise this rust bucket so much." Noticing a reproachful look from Alan, she quickly added, "I use the term 'rust bucket' in the most affectionate manner, of course."

"I have always had a fascination for technology such as this," said Megellan. "To see just how others are able to shoot for the stars with minimal means. It reminds me of how much we take our technology for granted. Despite my position with my people, I have always been a collector of old artefacts. My laboratory is filled with all sorts of old gadgets my people used to build. We had ships much like this during our early years to the stars. Something I wish I could have been a part of. But, here I am, on a ship like this. I feel like I've stepped back in time."

"I suppose we all started out the same way then," said Call. "Do you have AIs too?"

"Artificial Intelligences?" Megellan asked. He scratched his head, giving his long black braids a flip. He shrugged, spreading his wings slightly only to snap them back to his back. "No. That was the one thing my people never developed. But from what I see from you, it seems your people are quite adept at AIs."

"You haven't seen anything yet, mate," said Alan. "Wait 'til you meet Kiryuu Knight. You might call him the King of AIs."

"You've explained about him before," said Megellan. "This ex-leader of yours you call Grandfather. A Technomancer, as well. The Usurpers, I have noted, gave their AIs limited access to the Array to use our abilities, but from the way you describe how Kiryuu is capable of using the Array, it seems almost beyond what the Usurpers had developed."

"I'd better get back to my station," said Call. "Have fun, Commissioner."

"Thank you for the tour," said Megellan, dipping his head as Call left for the engine room. It was then that two faces came onto the screens on the console. One was Kiryuu's, the other was Telek's. Kiryuu looked rather surprised at Alan, who was positively beaming.

"_Alan?"_ said Kiryuu. _"Are you alright? You look like Christmas has come early."_

"_Good to see you're still in one piece, kid,"_ Telek drawled. _"Did you find anything on the Halo?"_

"More than you can imagine, Telek," said Alan. "Neither of you are gonna believe who we've met!" His expression darkened for a moment and he paused, turning to Megellan as a sudden thought occurred to him. "I think you'd better send them the language data," he said. "They don't know how to talk to you yet."

Megellan cleared his throat and then pulled out a silvery device from his pouch. He held the device over the console and it made a few high pitched whistling sounds. Kiryuu touched his own console and Telek was fingering around his as well. Telek stared at the strange green wolf-dragon with the black hair, blinking in utter confusion as to what he was.

_"Alan, who the hell is that?"_ he asked. _"What the fuck is he doing to your ship?"_

_"What is he doing on your ship?"_ asked Kiryuu. _"Though his look seems familiar."_

"Just wait," said Alan. "You have got to see this."

Megellan leaned away and then nodded at Alan with a grin.

"It should work now," he said. Kiryuu and Telek were now hearing English piping through their speakers as Megellan spoke. Alan bounced on his heels, wiggling his brows.

"Show him your cords," said Alan.

Megellan pulled free the glowing teal cords from the back of his neck and Kiryuu's eyes drew wide. Telek's mandibles opened and closed, his eyes blinking, dumbfounded.

_"A Technomancer?"_ Kiryuu asked.

"My name is Commissioner Megellan J'rasai," the Precursor began. "Of the Imperium. However, the People of Erde-Tyrene refer to me as a Precursor."

_"Impossible!"_ said Kiryuu. _"Utterly impossible. I have seen what the Precursors look like! Though you look similar, the Precursors I have seen through the Array visions were golden and copper in colour, brown hair, red wings and red eyes. One in particular had grey streaks in his hair."_

"Blitzardi," said Megellan. "They are a specific race of the Kethosi. I am a Lengodo Kethosi. Like the People, my species comes in various skin colours."

"You mean to tell me you didn't even know this?" asked Alan, smirking at the thought of knowing something that Kiryuu did not. He crossed his arms upon his chest. "I thought you had access to the Array, granddad."

_"I..."_ Kiryuu began. _"Had not Connected in a while."_ He looked away, lifting a metallic claw to his head. _"Not much time for it."_

Megellan leaned upon the console and came close to the screen. His glowing blue eyes narrowed as he studied Kiryuu. And then, he chuckled and shook his head.

"I completely understand, my friend," he said. "_She_ can be frightening at times. But I assure you she means well. Open your mind up a bit more to the Array and you will find your answers."

Kiryuu's eyes became crossed and he shook his head in utter disbelief. He was speaking to a creature who knew what he had seen when he connected to the Array. This was something he had never ever mentioned to anyone as to why he had not connected in such a long time, why he was so afraid to, but here was a creature he had never met, who knew what he saw just by a simple glance. Telek looked from one screen to another. Finally, he slapped his command chair's arms and barked at everyone within earshot.

_"Just who the fuck is that, what the fuck is going on, and stop it with the crazy 'I'm a Technomancer, therefore I know things you don't,' schtick! I'm gettin' sick of it!"_

_"Telek,"_ said Kiryuu. _"He is a Precursor. He is the one who originally taught us Earthlings how to use Technomancy."_

_"The ones who came before the Forerunners?"_ Telek asked. _"He's one... but ain't they dead?"_

"Now who in the Inferno said that?" Megellan asked, crossing his arms. "I'm not. At least I don't think I am. But as _You Know Who_ dictates, death is never the end. Or was it just because it's dead doesn't mean it's not moving...hmm...I always get those two Laws mixed up."

_"What?"_ Telek asked. _"What the hell are you talkin' about, buster?"_

Kiryuu shook his head again, preferring to remain silent.

_"You know what, if the Tonka Toy can't make sense of it,"_ said Telek. _"Then I sure as hell won't even try."_

Alan just laughed. He was more than getting a thrill over this, watching all three of these characters act. Telek confused, Kiryuu bewildered, and Megellan hardly making any sense, this was a treat for the mutant.

_"And what the fuck are you laughin' at, kid?"_ Telek asked, taking note of Alan's chuckles.

"Nothing, Supreme Commander," said Alan, shrugging. Still, he was grinning from cheek to cheek as Telek's complexion flushed even darker.

_"Sooner or later, I will bust that lip so hard, it'll swell up as big as my ship!"_ the Sangheili barked. Megellan chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

_"Now, can someone speak in a language that I can understand here?!"_ Telek continued. _"You're a Precursor. From what I got from Kiryuu a while back, the Forerunners and the Precursors were at war with each other over Technomancy..."_

"They stole Technomancy from us," said Megellan. "I have been a prisoner to the ones you call the Forerunners for quite some time."

_"Why were you a prisoner?"_ asked Kiryuu.

"I was sent to help the People," said Megellan. "Humans I believe they call themselves now. Help them with the cure to the weapon the Forerunners created; that which you refer to as the Flood. I was captured before a cure was made."

_"I don't believe it, a cure to the damned Flood,"_ said Telek. His brow furrowed and he leaned back against his chair. _"Hell, that would have been nice to know! Tekn and many others that I lost to that damned parasite... there would have been hope to save them."_

"You can blame the Forerunners for that," said Megellan.

_"I blame them for a lot more than just the absence of a cure, pal,"_ said Telek. _"My people have some sort of blind devotion to those extinct bastards. They call them gods. They ain't gods. And the more I spend time with you crazy Technomancers, I begin to find out more reasons as to why they're not gods. Now, I'm talking to a guy who was there, who knows they are not gods, but a bunch of liars and..."_

"Usurpers," said Megellan. "It is what we call them."

_"Usurpers,"_ said Telek. _"I would love to deliver you to Sanghelios. Let them hear you. Their eyes will finally be open to the truth. Hell, there're guys on the Citadel right now preaching about the godhood of the Forerunners."_ He turned to his other screen, looking at Kiryuu. _"Kiryuu, we have to bring this guy to the Council. He can tell it like it is. If he really is what and who he says he is, we won't have any problems going after the Reapers now."_ Telek returned his gaze to Megallan. _"You know about the Reapers, right?"_

"Know them?" Megellan asked. "My people have fought them. Tell me, Kiryuu, those images in the Array, the Blitzardi. Were they on ships fighting the Reapers?"

_"Yes,"_ said Kiryuu. _"I heard a name called, one who called himself Emperor Cerenath Khan Draconis, he led the fight against King Ghidorah and his Reapers."_

"Khan," said Megellan. He stepped back, a look of horror came to his face. He shook his head. "You know the name of Emperor Khan Draconis."

_"Khan?"_ Telek asked. _"Who the hell is Khan?"_ He turned to Kiryuu. _"Something you ain't telling me?"_

_"When I connected that time and found out about the Precursors, Khan was the name I heard spoke,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Emperor Khan."_

"The name of the Tyrant," said Megellan.

_"Tyrant?"_ Kiryuu asked.

"It is a long story," said Megellan. "But one that ended in much tragedy for my people. Which is why many of us have not returned to this galaxy. Emperor Khan became a tyrannical ruler, he enslaved many he saw was beneath him, anyone who was not Blitzardi. The only one who opposed his rule was his heir and nephew, Xi Kedzuel Draconis. Kedzuel and I were long time friends. I helped him overthrow Khan and Kedzuel took the throne for himself. But right as Kedzuel was about to slay his uncle, Khan sent a wave pulsating through the records of the Array, corrupting many files and taking away the control over a very important device, the thing that we use to banish the Reapers. Only the Emperor has that power; with Kedzuel as the new Emperor, Khan dead, we spent decades trying to repair what was damaged. Then, we received a distress signal from our allies; the People of Erde-Tyrene needed our help. They had almost completed the cure. Emperor Kedzuel sent me there to help out. When the Forerunners struck, we lost contact. But Kedzuel Draconis and the others are stuck in the neighbouring galaxy; the Andromeda Galaxy, you call it. I suspect the reason Kedzuel is not here now is because they are still trying to repair what they lost when Khan died." He focused upon Kiryuu's image. "It is Kedzuel who is the only one who can help you now, Kiryuu Knight. He and Khan look very similar, but Kedzuel is not as arrogant as his uncle is. If you intend to fight the Reapers, fight their armada, you cannot hope to survive it on your own. The Blitzardi, the warrior race of my species, they are the ones who can truly help you fight them. I would urge you to seek them out."

_"I think someone I know very closely has already made some contact,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Malcho. He speaks of someone named Nercine."_

"Nercine is Kedzuel's sister," said Megellan with a smile. "Who is this Malcho?"

_"I think he called himself once...Tezcacoatl,"_ said Kiryuu. _"He said he's met your people before too."_

Telek shook his head and sighed, looking now at the bewildered look on Alan's face.

_"It's all news to me too, kid,"_ he said.

"Tezca?" Megellan asked. "You know Tezca?"

_"Know him?"_ Kiryuu asked, a grin spreading across his face. _"He built my shielding and helped design my gravity lifters."_

"What a small universe this is!" Megellan said, clapping his hands together. "It would be wonderful to see him as well."

_"Uh, I'm sure the Feather Duster isn't exactly available right now,"_ said Telek. _"We're workin' late tonight and he likes to have his naps."_

_"In fact he's been rather quiet lately also,"_ said Kiryuu. _"He says he is working on some projects that might help with fighting the Reapers, though he will not tell me what."_

"I'm surprised you haven't been snooping around for the answers, Kiryuu," said Alan.

Kiryuu shook his head. _"I've been having my own problems lately,"_ he said. _"Some of which involve a certain someone you and I share a rather hostile relationship with."_ He cleared his throat. _"When we have more time, I may fill you in... in more detail, Alan. Now isn't the time. Telek, I believe we have an ace up our sleeve."_

Telek scratched his lower right mandible and nodded. _"I think so,"_ he said. _"And if Malcho knows who this guy is, you might as well want to tell him that Alan picked him up. Get him in on the loop as well."_

_"There is no doubt about it,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Commissioner J'rasai..."_

"Megellan, please," said the Lengodo.

_"Yes,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Megellan, I do not know how exactly we can even return you to your homeworld. But we do need their help. I have done as much as I can with the resources I have. But to have allies that know how to fight the Reapers, a great asset that would make. I will do what I can from here."_

"I understand," said Megellan. "If Tezca is speaking to Nercine, there is no doubt about it; Kedzuel is planning on fighting the Reapers. I do need to return to him before he gathers his fleets for the jump through Dark Space."

Kiryuu nodded. Then, the biomecha turned back to Alan.

_"This really was a surprise,"_ he said. _"Well done."_

"It was worth all the trouble just to see the looks on your faces," Alan said. Then his expression grew more serious. "I can't take all the credit, though. Are you sure these channels are secure?"

"_You should already know the answer to that by now, Alan,"_ said Kiryuu, giving him a reproachful look.

"_Kid,"_ said Telek, _"if anybody's found a way to crack our encryptions, they deserve to eavesdrop on us."_

"That's reassuring," Alan muttered. "I'm just checking because I don't want anyone else to know what I'm about to tell you. We picked up a Technomancer from the Migrant Fleet."

At this news Kiryuu went boggle-eyed. _"A Quarian Technomancer?!"_ he asked.

"No," said Alan, "a human who was hiding out with the Quarians. A teenage, borderline-autistic girl named Gillian Grayson."

"_Why was she hiding with the Migrant Fleet?"_ asked Telek. _"For that matter, why would the Quarians let her be there?"_

"Cerberus," said Alan. "They wanted to get their hands on her. They were even prepared to take on the Migrant Fleet to get her."

"_Why would they do that?"_ asked Telek. _"What's so special about this kid?"_

"Apparently she's not just any Technomancer," said Alan, "and after what I've seen I'm prepared to believe it. She's the reason we were even able to find the Commissioner"

"She does seem unusually attuned to the ways of the Array," Megellan chimed in, stroking his moustache-like tendrils. "For one so young, she's remarkably proficient."

"Was it common among your people?" asked Alan. "For children to be so good at Technomancy, I mean?"

"It isn't all that common," said Megellan. "But a few arise here and there. However, the most proficient and talented of my species are in fact the Blitzardi, especially the Imperial Family. It mostly has to do with breeding and genetic manipulation with the Imperial Family." He sniffed and flipped a lock from his shoulder. "A Blitzardi is capable without the Array to take on any form imaginable, organic or inorganic. They are energy manipulators by nature and the power of the Array gives them even greater control. Also coupled by excellent teachers." He sighed. "One of the things that Kedzuel attempted to stamp out when he came to rule was the one-sidedness of how the Array is taught between each race because he found out that there were just as talented individuals among the other races besides the Blitzardi. He had some degrees of success in this the last I knew."

_"Your species seems rather class oriented,"_ said Kiryuu. _"And race segregated."_

"An unfortunate fact," said Megellan.

"_Anyway, I've just brought up Gillian's old file from Grissom Academy,"_ said Kiryuu, now looking off-screen. _"Yes, here we are... Prone to sensory overload, reacts violently to being touched, not very communicative, but displaying an extraordinary aptitude for Technomancy even when she arrived at the Academy. According to her father, she just started doing it after watching other Technomancers."_

"Her father's ex-Cerberus," said Alan in a dark tone. "I know that they've got Technomancers in their ranks. She probably saw one of them doing it."

"_Ex-Cerberus?"_ said Telek, his brow arched. _"The Illusive Man lets his people quit?"_

"Not without a price," said Alan. "From what I understand Cerberus thought they could groom Gillian to be a weapon of some kind. Her father went along with it for a while, thinking it was what was best for humanity. Finally got some sense knocked into him though and helped Gillian to hide from them. He's been on the run ever since."

"_That much is true,"_ nodded Kiryuu. _"I've done a search for Paul Grayson, the name given in the file. No current place of residence, no contact details anywhere on the extranet... The man really does not want to be found."_

"_Well, if he left her with the Quarians to protect her,"_ said Telek, _"what the hell is she doin' with you?"_

"She's looking for her father," sighed Alan. "I don't have time to go looking for him, though; from what you said, it'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I'm surprised it hasn't occurred to her to use the Array."

"She may not fully understand how to use it," said Megellan. "I believe it would be prudent to allow her to remain on this ship. Perhaps I can teach her how to use her gift to its full potential."

"_If she's so damn important to Cerberus,"_ said Telek, _"then she needs to be under UNSC protection."_

"That won't work," said Alan. "She's got her mind set on finding her father, and she seems to be comfortable on the _Serenity_; if you try to remove her she'd probably vaporise you. We got lucky that she decided to take us on our little detour, and I'm still not sure why she did. Besides, I'm willing to bet that Cerberus has people within the UNSC. She's as safe here as she would be anywhere else."

"_It's your decision, Alan,"_ said Kiryuu. _"Just remember that, if she's as adept a Technomancer as you say she is, we can't let the Illusive Man get his hands on her. If Cerberus gets wise to her presence on your ship, bring her to me as quickly as you can. You know that you can trust me to keep her safe, even if you feel you can't trust anyone else in the UNSC."_

"Got it," said Alan. "With any luck though, we can keep off Cerberus' radar."

"_Right,"_ drawled Telek, clapping his hands together, _"you've got the Precursor and you've got the kid. Any idea what you're gonna do next?"_

"Well, we've found one Precursor," said Alan firmly. "I say we need to find the rest, bring them back here, if we can."

"_Hate to rain on your parade, kid,"_ said Telek, taking his helmet off and rubbing his forehead, _"but weren't you listening? They're in a whole other galaxy!"_

"I know," replied Alan. "But we've got to try, haven't we? We've got to let them know that we need their help more than ever. The only reason I can think of why they're not here already is that something's wrong on their end." He turned to address Megellan. "You're their top scientist, right? You'll probably find something they've overlooked. If we can get you home, we might find a way to bring the rest of them back here with us." He turned back to Kiryuu and Telek. "I also agree with Telek that we ought to let Malcho in on this. If he's really made contact with them somehow, then we could use his help. Just do me a favour and don't tell him I said that, or I'll never hear the end of it."

"_Sounds like you've got it all worked out,"_ said Telek. _"Except for one small detail... How the hell do you plan on getting' to Andromeda and back before the Reaper's come a-knockin'?"_

At this, Alan hung his head and held it in his claws. "That's something I'm still thinking about," he admitted. Now that he was confronted with the issue, it occurred to him that he really wasn't sure how to get to the Andromeda galaxy. Such a journey would take years, possibly even decades, and they didn't have the luxury of that amount of time. Telek slapped his forehead and rolled his eyes, but Kiryuu seemed distracted, looking at another screen on his end.

"_I think you'll have to wait before you can start thinking about that problem,"_ he said. _"Our outposts have just sent me a report which I find... unsettling. Telek, you may want to see this."_ Evidently he had sent his message along to Telek, who was now looking at another screen, his expression slowly becoming more baffled.

"_These coordinates..."_ he breathed. _"Ain't that where Onyx was?"_

"Onyx?" asked Alan.

"_A planet that was literally made from trillions of Forerunner Sentinels,"_ said Kiryuu. _"There was a battle fought there during the Covenant War, and the whole planet was thought to be destroyed when the Sentinels reactivated. However, I received intel just before Sovereign's attack on Eden Prime that suggested that the planet had somehow disappeared instead. The cause of this was unknown."_

"_Disappeared?"_ said Telek. _"Why ain't I as surprised as I probably should be with that?"_

"_Well, I don't know if this will surprise you,"_ sighed Kiryuu, _"but our tracking outposts have detected some really strange slipspace distortions. If their readings are right, then there's something large in that area, but the distortions are affecting it too badly for us to find out anything concrete without a close-up inspection. That's all we have at this point, but whatever it is that's there, whether it has anything to do with what happened to Onyx, we would want to investigate it at any event. However, our interests in that area go beyond that."_ He looked downcast for a moment, as if remembering something particularly painful. _"Telek, Onyx was Dr. Halsey's last known location."_

"_Halsey?"_ said Telek, raising his brows. _"The Wicked Bitch who tortured you into creating Cortana?"_

"Halsey..." Alan muttered, before snapping his fingers. "I remember you mentioned her two years ago. Wasn't she the one who came up with the Spartan program too?"

"_Yes,"_ said Kiryuu, his eyes narrowed and his teeth bared. _"In its original form, but you only know half the story. She forced me into co-operating, threatening to engineer events so that the government would kill my son, which they are more than capable of doing in this day and age. It's because of her that ONI kidnapped children and forced them to become soldiers. It's a stain on our history that I wish I never had any part of, but had no choice at the time. As you saw before the Battle of the Citadel, that project, among other things, nearly destroyed our relationship with the Council. The Spartan IV program, consisting of adult volunteers, was the compromise ONI had to reach with them to keep the project running, but for people like John the damage has already been done."_

"How the hell did someone like that get in a position of power?" asked Alan, looking incredulous.

"_The usual ways,"_ drawled Telek. _"Bribery. Threats. Sheer force of will. You know, all that stuff."_

"_Plus she was a legitimately brilliant scientist,"_ said Kiryuu, though he sounded disapproving. _"As unethical as her methods were, they did prove to be instrumental in helping us win the war."_

"_And you think she might be involved in whatever's going on in the space where Onyx should be,"_ Telek chimed in.

"_I do not know for certain,"_ said Kiryuu, _"but it would be worth our time to find out. The Council has issued a warrant for her arrest should she resurface, but I think it's in our best interests to keep her off their radar. We face an unconventional war against the Reapers, and as much as I hate to say it Dr. Halsey is the best at unconventional solutions. We need an entire alphabet's worth of back-up plans, and she may be able to come up with a few."_

"_A few that oughta only be if things get bad enough for Plan Z,"_ muttered Telek. _"I don't like it, but I guess we've gotta try."_

"_I'm sending the coordinates to the fleet,"_ said Kiryuu, looking away to press the holographic buttons on another display. When the data flashed up on another screen, Alan transferred it to the helm, where Alistair could see it. The gargoyle nodded grimly.

"Looks like we're the nearest ship to that sector," he said. "I was afraid of that."

"_I don't like the idea of you going there by yourselves,"_ said Telek.

"We'll at least scout the area," said Alan. "Besides, there's no telling how long this thing will be around. We'd better get there before it, and possibly the not-so-good doctor, does a vanishing act."

"_Fine,"_ muttered Telek, rubbing his head. _"You've made yer point. We'll get there as soon as possible. Just try not to go by your usual M.O. of doing something reckless."_

"_Remember that we still don't know exactly what we're dealing with here"_ said Kiryuu, looking grave. _"If that area gets too unstable, you could end up being trapped in slipspace, or worse. I advise you both to use extreme caution."_

"_We didn't get where we are today by doing that,"_ said Telek, before turning back to Alan. _"Still, make sure whatever scouting you do is very thorough before you make your next move. See you there, kid."_ With that, he signed off. Kiryuu shook his head before turning back to Alan.

"_Good luck, Alan,"_ he said. _"And I say again," _he continued, actually managing to smile._ "Good work."_

"Thanks, Kiryuu," said Alan, nodding. As Kiryuu signed off, he turned to face Alistair. "Right," he said, "you know where to head next."

"Aye-aye," said Alistair, his grip on the controls tightening. "Onward to possible terror, torture and gruesome death."

"It's like Telek said," said Alan, smirking. "Those are the fun parts." He and Megellan rose from their seats and walked back down the corridor towards the dining area. He knew that what they were doing was undoubtedly risky, especially after finding such an important figure, but it seemed like a necessary diversion. He wanted to believe that the war was now won already because of the presence of the Precursor, but he had learned long ago not to put all of his effort into one single plan. Against an opponent like King Ghidorah, it was like Kiryuu said; they needed all the back-up plans they could get.

"Sorry we can only spare one of the passenger cabins," he said to Megellan, trying to relax before the mission. "I don't know what sort of accommodation your kind are used to."

"For the past fifty thousand years," said Megellan, chuckling, "I have had to get used to sleeping while standing up. Believe me when I say that the cabins on your ship are vastly more comfortable."


	20. Highway to Hell

**Highway to Hell**

It was only a few hours later when the _Serenity_ reached the destination. On the other side of the closest Mass Relay things seemed quiet enough, with only the void of space stretching out beyond the window, and Alistair decided to guide the ship through slipspace to get closer to the coordinates he had been supplied with. Navigating slipspace had become much easier for him over the past two years, and he wondered how any of the early spacefarers managed without it. To his knowledge there was nothing in the way of physical objects to avoid; just open the exit portal in the right place and journeys could be completed in the fastest and most direct way outside of using the relays.

This was why no-one on the ship was more surprised when he was when, as it approached the correct coordinates, the ship began to shudder violently. The old ship rattled ominously, getting worse the closer he got. When Alan ran up to the bridge to investigate what was going on there was a sudden violent lurch and he was almost thrown bodily across the bridge.

"What the fuck is going on?!" he shouted, grabbing onto the co-pilot's console in an attempt to steady himself.

"I don't bloody know!" Alistair bellowed, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto the control column. "I'm taking us out of slipspace now before we get torn apart!"

With the extent that the ship was rattling, Alan was sure that they would not be a moment too soon. As they emerged from slipspace, they saw in front of them a cataclysmic sight. Out in space they saw what looked like a number of large open slipspace portals, but unlike similar portals Alan had seen these ones seemed to shift and change in size, like they couldn't make their mind up about what size object was to travel through. Now and again a sudden burst of energy, resembling a bolt of lightning, would shoot out of one portal towards another. The strangest sight of all came from the apparently empty space between the shifting, pulsating portals. As the energy bursts passed through the space, Alan was sure that they revealed parts of something very large and sphere-shaped, though details were difficult to discern. The effect made Alan think of water washing over a glass ball that was invisible to the naked eye. As Alan continued to be transfixed by this peculiar sight, Alistair stared at the readouts that he was receiving from the monitors on his console.

"These readings are all over the place," he said. "If we'd been in slipspace a second longer, we'd have flown straight into that mess."

Alan just shook his head, reaching a claw up to scratch the top of it. "It's like this part of the galaxy's tearing itself apart," he said. He leaned forwards, peering at the round object that seemed to flicker in and out of view. He was convinced that it was at the centre of what was happening; the fact that slipspace seemed to be going out of control in an area where a planet was known to have disappeared couldn't be coincidence. He reached up for the intercom and switched it on. "Megellan, could you report to the bridge, please?" he said, before replacing the intercom.

"I'd think he'd want a nap before he starts answering questions about slipspace instability," said Alistair, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, do you know anything about what's going on?" asked Alan in a very sardonic tone. As Alistair just rolled his eyes and raised his arms in surrender, he continued, "Just keep us out of reach of whatever the hell all that is." As Alistair gripped the control stick again, footsteps could be heard in the hallway, getting closer. Turning around, Alan watched Megellan stepping onto the bridge, surprisingly looking as energetic as he did when they last spoke. He tipped his head to Alan, regarding him with those glowing cyan eyes.

"I'm surprised you weren't catching up on any sleep," said Alan. At his seat, Alistair shook his head.

"If I was, I would need to sleep for twenty-four of your hours before I could wake without feeling groggy," said Megellan, with a smile. "Time is relative to the individual who measures it, and since we live for so long time moves much slower for us. I can stay awake for several of your days before needing to sleep. Even our wars last for centuries, even thousands of years at a time."

"Okay..." Alan breathed, now starting to have an idea of how Telek felt earlier. "Well, I hope you're feeling awake enough to tell us what that is," he continued, pointing towards the window. Megellan turned to look at the chaos unfolding outside, and his eyes made that same brief flash that they had earlier. The Precursor held his chin in his hand and looked thoughtful.

"I haven't seen a slipspace disturbance like this for a long time," he said. "There seems to be another Usurper installation, about the size of the natural satellite above Erde-Tyrene, trapped in a state of constant flux between slipspace and normal space." He turned to look at Alan. "I'm guessing you wish to take a closer look."

"I figured you never needed to guess anything," Alan said, arching an eyebrow.

"Even the Kethosi cannot always get all of the answers from the Array," said Megellan, shaking his head. "_She_ does not believe in handing all of the answers to us on a plate. Most of the Blitzardi think that _she_ is pulling jokes at their expense at times like this."

Alan scratched his head, looking puzzled. He had noticed that Megellan had an odd tendency to refer to the Array as a 'she', as if it was an actual person. From what he understood, it was little more than a giant database of everything that had ever happened anywhere, with no indication that it was sentient. Then again, Kiryuu had been somewhat coy about why he hadn't connected to it in a while, and he wondered if what Megellan was saying related to it somehow. He remembered how he used to pass notes in class when he was a child; now he felt as if someone had passed him a note that he didn't know how to read. He shook himself as he tried to return his mind to focusing on the task at hand. He noticed Megellan peering at him with a shrewd expression; if he knew about the questions that had raced through Alan's mind he seemed to have chosen not to bring them up, perhaps understanding that explanations could wait for another time.

"Is there any way to pull whatever-it-is all the way into normal space?" asked Alan. "I have the feeling that Halsey character is somewhere on there."

"It's possible," said Megellan, looking back towards the slipspace distortions. "It would require a tremendous amount of energy and concentration on my part, but it's certainly possible."

"Do it," said Alan, nodding his head. "We may not have much time."

Megellan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, pulling the ghostly teal cords out of the back of his head once again. He reached his arms out in front of him, as the cords draped themselves all around him, connecting to the floor. All of a sudden his eyes flew open, as his whole body began to glow in the same cyan colour as the cords. The teal glow to Megellan's eyes was now even more intense. Something Alan had only just realised was that the cyan glow and the triangular marks – the first, most visible signs of a Technomancer's connection to the Array – were permanently on the Kethosi's face. It was as if Megellan was permanently connected, a feat that was impossible even for Master Technomancers such as Kiryuu and Malcho on Earth.

Alan could not imagine how arduous the work had to be for Megellan. Technomancers were referred to as reality-warpers for good reason, but it seemed to be only now, as he watched Megellan's expression become a pained grimace, that he began to see how exhausting it must be to change reality itself. In spite of his concern for Megellan's health, watching him work proved to be a fascinating process, as even as he watched he thought he saw a small piece of the sphere blink into existence. He lost track of time as he watched. He looked over at Alistair, who was watching the readouts on his console intently. He shook his head, indicating that there had been no change yet. There was no other option now but to wait, and be patient.

Hours passed. The crew did what they could to keep themselves occupied, checking their supplies, maintaining their equipment, feeding themselves and catching quick naps. The few times they spoke it was in hushed whispers, as if they were afraid that the slightest disturbance would disrupt Megellan's work. Whenever any of them checked in on his progress, he was still in the same pose, as stiff as a statue, concentrating utterly on his task. Every now and then his hands and fingers would twitch slightly, as if he was a puppeteer pulling invisible strings. Every time they looked out of the window, they could see that a piece of the sphere was back in place, as if someone was filling in the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was as if he was commanding the sphere to return to normal space through sheer, unfathomable levels of pure willpower.

After some time had passed, Alan decided to go check up on Gillian, as he was now wondering if their experiences on the Halo had had any negative effect on her. He would have checked her sooner, but all the excitement of Megellan's presence and their renewed confidence of their chances against the Reapers had caught the crew in its maelstrom, and other concerns had slipped from their minds. He headed to her passenger cabin and knocked on the door. Looking through the amber screens Alan could see Gillian's outline moving around the room, apparently pacing to and fro. When he knocked a little louder she walked towards the door. When she slid it open, Alan saw that she was still wearing the Quarian environment suit, though she no longer seemed to want to put the helmet back on. She peered at him blankly, giving Alan the impression that his mind was being read.

"Hi," he said. "Just thought I'd see how you're doing, Gillian. You know, especially after we were both prisoners of a maniacal machine for a week."

"I'm fine, Captain," said Gillian. "Thanks for your concern." Alan looked away for a moment, rubbing the back of his head. He had no idea how to speak to someone in Gillian's position. He would have said it was like talking to a robot, but even robots and AIs were more talkative these days. However, he was determined to help her out of her shell; he knew that he had to win her trust.

"May I come in, please?" he asked. "It's not very comfortable chatting in a doorway."

After a pause, Gillian nodded, and walked over to the bed, sitting down. Alan moved to sit down beside her, keeping a small gap between them, knowing that she did not like anyone in her personal space. When Alan turned to face her, he found that she was now avoiding eye contact; when he spoke, she seemed to be looking down at his mouth and chin instead.

"Are you doing alright on this ship?" asked Alan. "I know it's not what you're used to, since you've been with the Quarians for so long..."

"I'm better now," said Gillian quietly. "I really like _Serenity_. She's seen so much." She looked around her cabin as she spoke, and Alan thought he could see traces of a smile on her lips. "I feel better being here now."

"What about us?" asked Alan, placing his claw on his chest. "What about me and my crew? Are you better around us now?" Gillian paused for a moment, her brow furrowed, as if considering her answer.

"It's good that you're now more polite," she suddenly said. "My father always told me that it was good to be polite to others." She then paused, and her expression became more troubled. "The birdman is sick."

"Sick?" asked Alan, his eyebrows rising. "How so?"

"There is something inside him that shouldn't be there," replied Gillian. "I saw it when I connected with him on that planet where we found the archive."

"When you knocked him out, you mean," said Alan, shaking his head. He knew that Gillian was talking about the powers of the Far Realm that resided in Alistair's body, explaining why, unlike other gargoyles, he could walk around in daylight. Alistair had had seven years of guilt over accepting those powers in a deal that had turned sour.

"The thing within him wants to hurt me," Gillian then said, holding her arms up to her chest as if there was a sudden chill in the room. "It wants to hurt all of us."

"Gillian," said Alan, reaching an arm out to touch her shoulder, but as he did so she drew her small body away, still not looking at him.

"Please don't touch me," she said, her voice becoming more forceful.

"Sorry," said Alan, pulling his arm away. It was very hard for him to know how to comfort someone when conventional methods only served to make them feel even more uncomfortable. He shook his head before turning to look at Gillian again, who was now looking nervous after Alan's attempt to reach out to her.

"Gillian," he said, "please look at me." Gillian did so, slowly turning her head in his direction. Evidently remembering whatever she had seen in Alistair had scared her. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you," Alan continued. "Nor will my friends. That's a promise." There was an uncomfortable silence, with Gillian still looking like she was shivering, and Alan eventually turning away, feeling that his reptilian gaze was making Gillian even more nervous.

"Has there..." Gillian finally said, breaking the silence. "Has there been any news about my father?"

Alan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Gillian," he said, "but we've got important work to do. I'd like to help you find him, I really would, but he's hidden himself far too well and we don't have time to go looking for him." He turned to look back at Gillian, noticing that she was very crestfallen. "Megellan may be able to help you, though. He might be able to teach you how to use your Technomancy properly." He was on the point of asking her if she even knew what Technomancy was, but he had the distinct feeling that he would end up insulting her. "He may be able to help you use it to find your father."

"I can't," Gillian suddenly said. "It doesn't work."

Alan looked surprised at this, not only that Gillian had apparently thought to use the Array to locate her father, but he was also left wondering why it wouldn't show her. The Array could potentially show a Technomancer anything. However, he recalled that others were capable of corrupting files in the Array, making them inaccessible; that was one of the reasons why the Conduit had been so hard to find two years ago. Perhaps Paul Grayson knew a Technomancer who could do that for him, though Alan had to admit that was pure speculation. If it was true, however, it would make looking for Grayson extremely difficult. Clearly the man did not want to be found.

"_Captain!"_ Alistair's voice suddenly said through the intercom. _"You'd better get your arse up here! Megellan's nearly finished!"_

"Excuse me," said Alan as he quickly stood up and sprinted out of the cabin and up the stairs, running the full length of the ship to the bridge. Megellan was in the same position he was before, but the strain on his features was much more visible, and Alan was now very worried at just how drained he looked. The slipspace disturbances outside had disappeared completely, while as Alan watched the last parts of the metallic sphere faded into existence. It was hard for him to believe that someone had been able to do this, to be able to adjust the very fabric of reality itself. As the sphere was completed, the Technomantic cords retreated back into Megellan's head, and the glow from his body faded. The Precursor let out a sharp groan, and then collapsed onto one knee, panting hard.

"Megellan!" Alan shouted, running to the Precursor and helping him to his feet. "Oh God, I'm so sorry..."

"It's not your fault, Captain," said Megellan, trying to put on a brave face but his smile just looking more like a pained grimace. "I knew just how tiring doing this would be. You have nothing to apologise for."

"No," Alan groaned, helping Megellan into the co-pilot's chair. "I talked you into it. The last Precursor in the Milky Way's no good to anybody if he's burnt out. I should have figured that out."

Megellan just waved his hand dismissively, but he still looked exhausted. Reasoning that there wasn't much else he could do for him, Alan turned away to look out of the window while Alistair watched the readouts on his console with wide eyes.

"Amazing..." he breathed. "All the readings are back in the normal range. You'd never be able to tell that the whole place was tearing itself apart a few hours ago."

"So this is what's left of Onyx..." Alan said, leaning on the rails for the small steps that went down to the turret controls. The metal sphere outside seemed featureless, save for some faint signs of orange lights on the surface. Alan often wondered if this was what the inside layer of the Dyson Spheres looked like when viewed from outside. He knew what was inside each one of them, and if Kiryuu was right then there was still a chance that Halsey was inside. Alan didn't know how he would react if he met her, after everything he had heard about the woman; he wasn't sure whether to punch her or tear her throat out with his teeth.

Suddenly, as he watched, he saw a blue light appear on the surface of the sphere, followed by five blue lines stretching out in a star formation from that central point. In the spaces between the lines, the surface of the planet began to retract, sliding back to reveal an immense hole, from which emanated a vivid blue light that bathed the ship. There was a sudden jolt, and it took a moment for Alan to realise that the ship had started moving towards the open sphere. Looking at the frustrated expression on Alistair's face, he assumed that this was not intended.

"Must be a tractor beam!" he exclaimed. "Can you get us out of it?"

"No can do!" replied Alistair, shaking his head. "If I try to get us out of the pull, I'll just end up tearing the ship apart!"

"Just for once, I'd like for things to go smoothly and simply," Alan grumbled, reaching up and grabbing the intercom. "All hands to the cargo bay. Repeat; all hands to the cargo bay. Dorva, Nicole, suit up." As he replaced the intercom he turned to Alistair. "Come on. Looks like we'll have to do this the hard way." As Alan and Alistair headed down the corridor towards the cargo bay, Megellan shook his head, his exhaustion now becoming fear. Something about this installation had made him very uneasy, but he wasn't sure exactly why. He could not shake the feeling that he had brought something very dangerous into this world. Meanwhile, Alan was getting his armour ready alongside Dorva and Nicole in the cargo bay. Alistair and Call helped, both looking very apprehensive.

"Right, here's the long and short of it," said Alan, once all but his helmet were firmly in place. "We're being pulled into what's left of the Forerunner installation known as Onyx. According to intel, it was the last location of one Dr. Catherine Halsey." At the mention of the name, he saw Nicole's expression become one of curiosity. "Our main priority is to find out if she's even still alive, and if she is, we're to get her out. Of course, we're going nowhere while the tractor beam's in place, so we'll have to find a way to shut it down." He suddenly heard the sound of the ship's propulsion systems coming from outside, indicating that they were no longer in the vacuum of space; they were now inside the sphere.

"Nicole," he continued, looking at the Spartan, "run scans for any UNSC transmissions in this place. If Halsey is here, I'm sure she would have tried to get a signal out."

"You got it," replied Nicole, already bringing up her commlink and scanning the frequencies.

"I'll take point," said Alan. "I've been inside these Shield Installations before, and they're all pretty much alike. We should have no problems finding our way around and there shouldn't be any Flood." Alistair was about to open his beak to argue, but Alan cut him off. "Pandora was a one-off."

"I fear there is something even worse than the Flood in this place," Megellan's voice suddenly said from the gangways. Looking around, the crew saw him walking down the steps towards the floor level, looking haggard but making a brave effort to stay on his feet. He was also once again in his bio-suit, which was similar to the Mjolnir armour worn by Spartans.

"What do you mean?" asked Call. "What can possibly be worse than the Flood?"

"I don't know..." Megellan groaned, approaching the group. "I sensed something about this place through the Array connection, but when I tried to investigate the files I found were corrupted. I couldn't decipher them. There is something about this Usurper installation that someone did not wish for us to find out about." He shook his head, his eyes closed. "If I had not been exhausted from bringing this world back into normal space, I could send us away from here, and I would rather we did not go outside."

"We've got to shut down that tractor beam," said Alan. "In any case, we might as well look for Halsey while we're here. If there is something dangerous here, I don't know how sitting here on our arses would help."

Megellan heaved a deep sigh, bowing his head. "Very well," he said, "but I insist on going with you."

"You need to rest, mate," said Alan, shaking his head.

"If I'm right," Megellan said, making his voice sound more forceful, "then you will need my help to face whatever is in here. My strength will return as we move on. Don't worry about me."

"Can't help doing that," said Alan. "We need you, so of course I'm going to worry about your health. Still, if you insist on coming..." He paused for a moment, his expression full of concern, then he sighed and turned to Alistair, who was closing the storage lockers for everyone's combat gear.

"Alistair," said Alan, "you and Call stay here and watch the ship. Best to keep yourselves armed too, just in case." He looked behind Alistair for a moment and saw Gillian peering around the door to the common area, apparently unsure as to whether she counted as a 'hand' on the ship. "Keep Gillian safe."

Alistair nodded, though the frown on his face was a sure sign that he was very uneasy about this. Alan had to admit that Megellan's words had filled him with a whole new level of dread. Still, it was too late to turn back now, and as the ship shook, and a low thump could be heard from beneath it as it landed on solid ground, he clamped the helmet onto his face and narrowed his eyes behind the amber eye-screens.

"Alright," he said, crossing over to the control panel and opening the cargo bay doors. "Let's go."

0

The Omega 4 Relay looked different to other relays. Though it bore the same shape, making it resemble a giant tuning fork with lights on it floating in space, it was slightly larger than other relays. The most noticeable difference, of course, was that the Element Zero core at the centre of the relay was an angry red colour, rather than the serene blue of other relays. As she watched the approach from the _Normandy_'s cockpit, Shepard could not help but feel that the red colour was more appropriate for the relays. They were not the benevolent machines that the rest of the galaxy had long believed them to be, having being created by a dark being for a dark purpose. She didn't want to imagine the catastrophic consequences had Sovereign being allowed to take control of the relay network through the Citadel...

"Approaching Omega 4 Relay," said Joker, back at his usual place at the helm, his voice distracting Shepard from her thoughts and bringing her back to the present. "Everyone stand by."

"Let's make it happen," said Shepard. Joker gave her a confident smile as he steered the ship closer to the relay's core. He pressed several holographic buttons on his control display, and activated the ship's latest upgrade.

"Reaper IFF activated," said EDI from her human-like avatar. "Signal acknowledged."

"_Commander?"_ Jacob's voice said through Shepard's commlink. _"The drive core just lit up like a Christmas tree!"_ EDI nodded at this; apparently that was a sign that the IFF had been accepted, and the core was preparing to interface with the relay.

"Drive core electrical charge at critical levels," she said.

"Rerouting!" replied Joker, his hands waving over the pilot controls. Seconds later, the ship was pulling alongside the relay, now being bathed in the eezo from the core. This was a routine process when it came to using the Mass Relays, but never had Shepard felt a greater sense of foreboding at it than she did now. All of a sudden the ship rocketed forward, travelling at incalculable speeds as it seemed to stretch and distort around the crew.

"Brace for deceleration!" EDI barked. A mere second later, the _Normandy_ emerged from the other side of the slipspace portal, and both Shepard and Joker found themselves staring at a large piece of floating wreckage that threatened to slam into them.

"Oh, shit!" exclaimed Joker, his pilot's gestures becoming more frantic. He banked the ship hard, narrowly missing the debris as it flew upwards, and eventually came to a clear patch. Breathing a sigh of relief, Joker leaned back in his chair. "Too close," he said, shaking his head.

Shepard leaned forward over Joker's chair for a better look at his readouts, as the sound of footsteps indicated Miranda's appearance on the bridge. When she was satisfied, she looked up out of the windows. The galactic core consisted of red gaseous clouds, and in the distance was what looked like a giant exploding sun, casting a bright light on the horizon. This was the accretion disk; the very centre of the entire galaxy. It had to be enormous to be visible from so great a distance. In the clouds of gas was an entire field of wreckage, strewn about all over the place, all of different designs, some of which were like no ship that existed in the galaxy today.

"These must be all the ships that tried to make it through the relay," said Joker. "Some look... ancient."

"I have detected an energy signature near the edge of the accretion disk," said EDI. Shepard peered out the window, and slowly approaching them was the source of the signal. It looked like a large brown tower, floating in the void, encased in rings of metal.

"Has to be the Collector base," said Shepard. "Take us in for a closer look, nice and easy."

The flight of the _Normandy_ was uninterrupted for only a few seconds, with only slight adjustments needed every now and then to avoid colliding with a stray piece of debris. Suddenly alarms sounded all over the ship, and the warning lights began to flash.

"Careful, Jeff," said EDI, pointing at the console readouts. "We have company." Looking at the screens, Joker saw that, quite close to the ship now, were what looked like several metal orbs, each with a red optic in the centre. These machines were armed, for they opened fire on the ship, the red laser bolts narrowly missing the ship.

"Taking evasive manoeuvres," said Joker, as the ship began to dive and wheel about in an effort to evade the shots. Some of the orbs sped ahead of the ship to try to intercept it. "Now they're just pissing me off!" grunted Joker, as he activated the ship's own lasers and shot down the intercepting drones. However, the attackers were persistent, as more appeared and stayed on the ship's tail.

"EDI," barked Joker, "take these bastards out!" One of the drones managed to draw alongside the ship, the laser blast striking the hull.

"As long as the new plating holds," Miranda chimed in as the ship shook, perhaps with less force than could have been expected of a direct hit. The Silaris Armour Plating on the hull that Jacob had suggested was clearly paying off.

"They want another round?" snarled Joker, as he recovered himself. "Come on, girl; let's give it to 'em."

More blasts struck the _Normandy_, but the armour plating held fast. The strike team struggled to remain on their feet as the ship shook with each impact. Joker frantically manipulated the controls, his face contorted in concentration, as he made the ship, spin, bank, dive and loop in a desperate attempt to shake off the drones. However, they managed to keep pace, one even managing to smash right into the hull.

"Alert," said EDI, bringing up a hologram of the _Normandy_, showing the location of the damage. "Hull breach on the engineering deck."

"It's in the cargo hold!" said Joker. Mercifully no-one on the team was in that part of the ship.

"I'll take a team and deal with the intruder," said Shepard, already moving to leave the bridge. "You get the rest of them off our tail!"

"Aye-aye, Commander!" replied Joker, returning his gaze to the console. EDI brought up several screens showing the footage from the security cameras in the cargo bay. One of the sphere-shaped drones was in there, already using its laser to try to tear more pieces out of it. Shepard, Mordin and Jack stormed the room, firing their weapons, Mordin using his Omni-Tool to try to incinerate and overload the mechanoid. The emergency shielding had kicked in, so the crew were alright. In the midst of the furious firefight, Joker tried to lose the rest of the drones, but with no success.

"We're sitting ducks out here!" he barked. "I have to try to lose them in the debris field!"

Joker knew this quickly-made plan was risky, but he didn't see how they had any choice if they hoped to rid themselves of their pursuers. Without allowing himself time to change his mind, he steered the _Normandy_ straight into a large cluster of debris that continually shifted and span. The drones pursued the ship, but one of them was unlucky and slammed into a large piece of a ship's hull. Alarms sounded all over the ship again, as it struggled to deal with the extra impact from smaller pieces of debris, in an area where it was too tightly-packed to avoid it.

"Our kinetic barriers are not designed to survive impact with debris that size, Jeff," said EDI, shaking her holographic head.

"Then I guess it's a good thing we upgraded," said Joker, mentally thanking Tali that she had been able to procure the new cyclonic shielding technology for the ship. "We're going in!"

All around them the space between pieces of ship was getting smaller and smaller, and Joker had to make some dangerous manoeuvres to avoid slamming into the shifting pieces. Once or twice he even ended up scraping the ship on the sides of the debris tunnel, loud grinding, squealing noises now audible all over the ship.

"Come on..." he muttered. "Find some room!"

"Kintetic barriers at forty percent," said EDI.

"Re-route non-critical power!" shouted Joker. "This is gonna hurt!" The ship pitched and rolled, narrowly missing iron girders and scraps of plate metal that seemed to whirl all around them. The drones were not so lucky and were crushed by the masses of wreckage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ship emerged from the other side of the debris field, minus pursuit.

"Damage report!" Joker called, lowering his arms, which were now aching from the control manipulation.

"Kinetic barriers steady at thirty percent," said EDI. "No significant damage."

"Take the helm, EDI," said Joker. "Keep it slow. See if we can avoid any more attention.

"I have detected an enemy heading for the cargo hold," replied EDI. The monitor showed that it was the very same sphere that Shepard and her team had chased out only a moment ago.

"That thing again..." groaned Joker. "This one's up to Shepard." He watched the battle on the monitors, as all three squad members ducked and dived behind the machinery in the hold, firing back at the sphere that was trying to grind them down with its laser. After a short while cracks appeared on the armour plating, and sparks began to fly everywhere. Finally, the group dived for cover behind a set of pipes as the machine seemed to spin out of control, and finally exploded, scattering its pieces everywhere.

"_Yup,"_ chuckled Jack through the comm. channels. _"It's staying dead this time!"_

"Better get back up here, Commander," said Miranda. Out of the window she and Joker saw the debris parting like a pair of curtains, revealing that they were now very close to the Collector base. Shepard ran up to the bridge and soon saw what they saw. They were now so close, and somewhere in that construction were the missing crew.

"See if you can find a place to land without drawing attention," she said. A quick glimpse over at another monitor, however, and Joker's expression turned sour.

"Too late," he said. "Looks like they're sending out an old friend to greet us."

From the side of the station came a familiar sight; the Collector ship, which now looked tiny and insignificant in comparison to the vast structure which bore so many resemblances to it. It swung about and flew toward the _Normandy_, pulling a turn that would have sheared many ships of a similar size in half. From its centre the yellow light glowed, and its main cannon fired on the ship, Joker forcing it to veer from side-to-side to avoid getting struck.

"Time to show our new teeth," hissed Shepard. "Fire the main gun!" Beneath the ship, the Thanix cannon emerged, and instantly fired a large blue beam at the Collector vessel. It struck true, and Garrus had not been exaggerating about its power, as large chunks of the Collector ship were torn off in that single blow. In spite of the ship's smaller size, the power of this gun was comparable to the main gun on a Sangheili dreadnought.

"How do ya like that, ya sons-of-bitches?!" shouted Joker, pumping his fists in triumph.

"Get in close and finish them off!" barked Shepard.

"Everybody hold on!" shouted Joker. "Gonna be a wild ride!" The ship spun and made a steep climb to avoid the Collector ship's return fire, then spun around and flew at full speed towards the awaiting Collectors. "Give 'em hell, girl!" said Joker, punching the firing controls again. With a second shot from the Thanix cannon, the Collector ship was engulfed in flames, explosions rocking it from within, and finally it blasted apart.

"Look out!" Miranda suddenly shouted. Joker had underestimated his distance from the ship, and the blast wave suddenly struck the _Normandy_, causing it to rock violently.

"Mass Effect field generators are offline!" shouted Joker. "EDI, give me something!"

"Generators unresponsive," was EDI's discouraging reply as impact alarms sounded around the ship. "All hands, brace for impact." For a moment the ship skimmed over the hull of the Collector base, then the port side collided with part of it, sending it spinning and crashing onto the hull, scraping along it for a distance of thousands of meters. Joker ended up crumpled over one arm of his chair while both Shepard and Miranda fell to the floor. Finally, the ship came to rest near an outcrop made of the same chitin that they had seen inside the Collector ship. Shaking from head to foot, Shepard pulled herself to her feet.

"Joker!" she shouted, the sounds of electronic crackling all around her. "You okay?!"

"I think I broke a rib," was Joker's reply as he struggled to lift himself back into his chair. "All of them." He sat there seething while Shepard clutched the back of his chair and Miranda wobbled precariously to her feet. Around them the bridge was largely intact, though sparks could be seen coming from some damaged consoles.

"Multiple core systems overloaded during the crash," said EDI, her holographic avatar flickering. "Restoring operations will take time."

"We all knew this was likely a one-way trip..." sighed Miranda, her arms folded and her expression worried.

"All that matters is that the Collectors are no longer a threat to humanity, or anyone else," said Shepard, her eyes closed. "It doesn't matter if we make it out or not."

"Well, we're off to a good start," said Joker.

"How long until the Collectors find this landing zone?" asked Shepard, turning to EDI.

"I do not detect an internal security network," said EDI. "It is possible the Collectors did not expect anyone to reach the base."

"If we're lucky," Joker chimed in, "their external sensors were hit like we were. They may not know we're alive."

"Strike team to briefing room," said Shepard through the intercom. "It's time." With that, she and Miranda headed into the briefing room, as one by one each member of this hand-picked, rag-tag team arrived, readying their weapons and adjusting their armour. Everyone had a look of grim resolve in their eyes, with no more distractions to get in the way of their mission. They all knew the stakes, and that this was essentially a suicide mission, but importantly to Shepard they looked ready.

"This isn't how we planned this mission," said Shepard, addressing everyone, "but this is where we're at. We can't worry about whether the Normandy can get us home. We came to stop the Collectors, and that means coming up with a plan to take out this station. EDI, bring up your scans." Above the briefing table a holographic image of the Collector base appeared, with the central decks highlighted.

"You should be able to overload their critical systems," said EDI, "if you get to the main control centre here." An indicator pointed at a spot some distance away from the centre.

"That means going through the heart of the station," said Jacob, pointing at the hologram. "Right past this massive energy signature."

"That's the central chamber," said Shepard, leaning on the desk. "If our crew or any of the colonists are still alive, the Collectors are probably holding them there."

"Looks like there are two main routes," said Jacob, bringing up more indicators on the hologram. "Might be a good idea to split up to keep the Collectors off-balance, then regroup in the central chamber."

"No good," said Miranda, pointing at the inner schematics. "Both routes are blocked. See these doors? The only way past is to get someone to open them from the other side."

"It's not a fortress," said Shepard, shaking her head. "There's got to be another way in." Peering at the schematics, she pointed at what looked like the answer. "What about that ventilation shaft? If we send a team down each path, they can keep the Collectors busy while someone else sneaks through there."

"Practically a suicide mission," scoffed Jacob. "I volunteer."

"I appreciate the thought, Jacob," Miranda cut in, "but you couldn't shut down the security systems in time. We need to send a tech expert."

Shepard nodded, and turned to Tali. "Tali, you've got the skills to cover this," she said.

"I won't let you down," replied Tali, standing straighter.

"The rest of us will break into two teams and fight down each passage," said Shepard to the others. "That should draw the Collectors' attention away from Tali."

"I'll lead the second fire team, Shepard," said Miranda, stepping forward. "We'll meet up with you on the other side of the doors."

"Not so fast, cheerleader," Jack cut in. "Nobody wants to take orders from you." Shepard had to suppress a groan, for she could not believe that Jack was letting her personal feelings get in the way at a time like this. Behind Jack, Garrus was shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't a popularity contest!" snapped Miranda. "Lives are at stake! You need someone who can command loyalty through experience!"

Shepard knew that Miranda was more than qualified for the job, but she knew there was another person she would trust with her life even more, someone who had commanded strike units himself. She knew she had to choose him for this, even if it was just to shut Jack up.

"Garrus," she said, turning to the Turian. "You're in charge of the fire team." Garrus didn't say anything, but nodded in reply, doubtless already running through possible tactics in his mind.

"Well," said Miranda, looking somewhat put-out. "At least he knows what he's doing." She narrowed her eyes in Miranda's direction. "Happy now?"

"Very happy," replied Jack, sneering at the sight of Miranda apparently being denied a treat. Shepard glared at both women, pacing back and forth before her team. This would be their final trial, the final test of their unity and strength.

"I don't know what we're gonna find in there," she said, "but I won't lie to you. It's not gonna be easy. We've lost good people. We may lose more." She stopped pacing and stood at the head of the table, hands behind her back, looking every inch the leader. "We don't know how many the Collectors have stolen – thousands, hundreds of thousands. It's not important. What matters is this; not one more." She pointed in front of her as if to emphasise each of those three last words, her expression hardening. "That's what we can do here, today," she continued. "It ends with us. They want to know what we're made of?" She pointed in front of her, and then pointed at herself, her eyes narrowed. "I say we show them, on our terms. Let's bring our people home!"

Minutes later, she was jumping out of the _Normandy_'s airlock, landing on the hard chitin below. Grunt and Thane landed beside her, chosen to make up the first fire team with Shepard. All three of them readied their weapons, looking around them at the utterly alien landscape before them, seeing a dark tunnel leading inside the station before them. Some distance away, Shepard saw Garrus leading the rest of the squad towards the second entrance, while Tali broke off from the group to head to the ventilation shaft. All of them looked as similarly alert as her squad was.

She knew they were ready. Now it was time for this squad, this group of renegades, outcasts and misfits, to band together and bring their allies home. The creator of the Collectors would soon know what they were made of.


	21. Trials of the Ancients

**Trials of the Ancients**

Much like the Halos, the Shield Installations were worlds which would defy all logic. They were literally worlds that existed within worlds, created on the inside layer of vast Dyson Spheres, though the outer layer of Onyx was long gone. All around and above the team, as they made their way carefully through a thick forest of ancient trees, vast stretches of land and water were visible, surrounding them and giving the impression of a world turned inside-out. In the centre of the vast cavity was a small sun, illuminating every surface in the installation. Of the current _Serenity_ crew, only Alan and Alistair had been inside a Shield Installation before, and he could see that Dorva and Nicole were struggling to contain their shock and awe at what they were seeing. It was indeed a spectacular sight for those not used to it, but all Alan could think about were Megellan's words. He couldn't help peering into every shadow, into every tree and bush, hoping against hope that something wasn't waiting to spring out of the shadows.

As the group made their way through the jungle, fallen branches and grass crunching under their feet, it occurred to Alan that he had not heard a single sound that the group themselves hadn't made. There were no sounds of life, no animals or insects or anything that indicated any activity, not even so much as a breeze. In spite of all the plants around them, and the fact that the air in the installation was breathe-able, the whole place seemed to be dead. A great sense of foreboding filled Alan, and made him wonder if whatever nightmare Megellan had mentioned had anything to do with this.

"Any luck, Nicole?" he asked. The Spartan had kept one eye on her commlink, but she just shook her head.

"No, Captain," she said. "No sign of any kind of transmission. It's like they really don't want to be found."

"Or they don't want something to find them..." Megellan muttered, looking very uneasy.

"Keep trying," said Alan to Nicole. "I don't want to stay here any longer than is necessary."

They were following a trail where the grass and bushes were not as thick as elsewhere in the forest, winding through the trees like a natural path that had been worn down over time. After several more minutes of marching in the gaunt quiet, they found that the path came to a rest at the side of a great gorge, thousands of feet deep through which a river ran at the very bottom. Looking to either side of him, Alan saw that it had to stretch for miles. To try to walk around it would take days. It was then that he noticed a small control panel close to where he was standing, of a similar design to those on the Halos.

"Nicole..." he began, but the Spartan seemed to have noticed the control panel too, as she stepped in front of him.

"Way ahead of you, Captain," she said, pushing her hand against the panel. All at once a long path made of nothing but pure light formed, spanning the width of the chasm. It was the same sort of blue hard-light that the platform had been made of back in Megellan's cell, as when Alan put his foot on it to test it it held firm, as if he was standing on solid ground. He motioned for the others to follow him as he led the way across the bridge, not daring to look down.

They were about halfway across the bridge, when suddenly what looked like small orange sparks appeared in mid-air on the other side of the gorge. Out of these sparks streams of orange light gushed out, merging together and forming humanoid figures apparently out of thin air. Within a mere second the figures were now stood on the far side of the bridge, blocking the group's exit. They were bipedal figures with two sets of arms; artificial arms growing out of each shoulder made of several segments held in place by an energy field, and smaller arms below the shoulders with small, five-fingered hands which were more organic-looking and physically attached to the body. Their appearance resembled knights wearing armour, and their heads were covered by helmets, with glowing eyes and jaws that seemed to be fixed in a permanent, unnerving grimace, showing two rows of teeth. Their bodies were covered in patterns of light with a fiery glow about their heads. Each carried a gun in one hand and a hard-light sword in the other, and before Alan could fully process what he was seeing the figures raised their guns and opened fire on the group, streaks of orange energy shooting dangerously close to them.

"Get down!" Alan yelled, and he, Dorva and Nicole flattened themselves against the blue hard-light, the shots whizzing past them. As he raised his head and drew his gun to return fire, he saw that the shots were no longer reaching them. A wall made of a cyan light resembling a glowing spider's web had appeared in front of the group. Looking behind him, he saw that Megellan had taken out his Technomantic cords and was forming the shield, his face contorted in concentration. A similar shield had been formed behind the group, deflecting the shots coming from more of the bipeds that had appeared at the point they entered the area from.

"Can you keep this up?" shouted Alan to Megellan.

"For as long as is necessary," replied Megellan, though his attempts to smile looked more like a pained grimace.

"Then let's get out of here fast!" Alan called, getting back to his feet. He had a very bad feeling about Megellan pushing himself so hard, considering what he had just done. Nevertheless, as soon as everyone was on their feet Megellan advanced forward, keeping the shields up while the group returned fire. The shielding on these figures was strong and they proved to be immensely agile, darting all over the place. They even had the annoying habit of suddenly disappearing and then reappearing elsewhere. They kept trying to flank the group, but mercifully the shields held firm. As each of these 'knights' was cut down by gunfire they dissolved, breaking down into cube-like shapes of orange light before disappearing.

Quickly the group managed to get to the other side of the ravine, and it was then that they saw several smaller drones flying overhead. The small curved bodies were flanked by two large discs on either side, and there did not seem to be anything holding all of the different segments together. Some of them swooped overhead, opening fire on the group, while others hovered above the soldiers, forming hard-light shields in front of them that caused the group's bullets to just bounce off them.

"Take down those drones!" shouted Alan, struggling to make himself heard above the sounds of gunfire. The others seemed to get the message, however, as soon Dorva and Nicole had shot down several of the drones, each blasting apart as they were taken down. Down a steep hill lined with trees the group ran, shooting at the strange mechanoids that suddenly appeared and shot at them from all sides. Megellan devoted his energies to maintaining the shield, slowing down to allow the others to aim with greater accuracy. Luckily for the group it seemed that the soldiers could not teleport inside the shield. After the initial panic of facing these new enemies, the group managed to calm themselves down enough to become more proficient at killing them, though the big concern was that they would run out of ammunition before the attackers gave up. Finally, as the group reached the bottom of the hill, where a low building that resembled a bunker was seen, no more of the strange creatures appeared to challenge them. The group breathed a collective sigh of relief, Nicole and Dorva holstering their still-smoking guns while Megellan retracted the cords, holding a claw up to his head.

"You alright?" Alan asked the Precursor.

"I'm fine," replied Megellan. "Just a headache. I'm still feeling a little fragile after pulling this world into reality."

Alan looked around him apprehensively, now expecting any number of those mechanoid-looking soldiers to suddenly teleport in and start shooting again. He looked over towards the door of the bunker.

"Let's see what's in here," he said. "Maybe there's something in there that can help against those... things."

Nicole walked over to the small control panel beside the door and waved her hand over it. However, unlike the other control panels, this one did not respond. She waved over it again, tapped on it, even beat it with her fist, but there was no response.

"What's wrong?" asked Alan.

"I don't know..." replied Nicole, shaking her head. "These things are supposed to react to humans, right? So why isn't this one working?" Alan looked over at Megellan, who was looking at the bunker, the eyes flashing once again.

"Somebody has hacked the security systems of this bunker," he said. "They have done everything in their power to render this place undetectable. No outgoing transmissions, no heat emissions to detect life-signs through infra-red, even the door controls have been sabotaged... I would say that this place is empty, but these security measures would suggest otherwise."

"Any way we can get past them?" asked Alan.

"I could disable them long enough for us to get inside," said Megellan. "It is likely that these measures are in place to prevent the creatures from finding whoever is in here. The instant the fields go down they will doubtless detect any signatures coming from inside." When he saw the concerned look on Alan's face he added, "It will certainly be easier than deflecting rifle fire."

"Okay," said Alan. "Get us in there."

Megellan nodded, and sent the cords over to the control panel. Within seconds there was a beeping noise, and the heavy doors slid open, revealing a dimly-lit chamber beyond. The group quickly stepped inside, the last one being Megellan, who quickly shut the door behind him as strange noises could be heard coming from outside.

The group took this moment to catch their breath, trying to relax after the intensity of the fight and the tension of any further attacks. However, they had to raise their weapons again as the sound of heavy footsteps came charging towards them. The bunker consisted of a single room with a ramp leading downwards at the other end, but as the group raised their weapons several figures came up the ramp, drawing assault rifles and pointing them right at the group.

"Drop the weapons!" one of them barked with a female voice, as four soldiers in total lined up in front of them, raising their rifles. It took Alan a moment to realise that all of them were wearing green MJOLNIR armour; the standard-issue combat wear for a certain breed of super-soldier back in the UNSC.

"Spartans..." he said, looking over at Nicole.

"I wonder if they're Dr. Halsey's entourage," said Nicole, lowering her rifle to the floor. "Better do as they say, Captain. Spartan's aren't known for giving idle threats."

"I'll take your word for it," replied Alan, turning to Dorva. "Weapons down." With that, he and Dorva lowered their own weapons to the ground. Two of the Spartans gathered up the dropped guns while the others kept their rifles trained on the intruders, their expressions unseen behind the opaque visors of their helmets. Nicole pulled off her own helmet, peering at the Spartan who had commanded them earlier. Alan followed her eyes, and saw that she was looking at a small emblem on the chest plate that resembled a rabbit.

"Kelly?" asked Nicole, her eyes widening.

"You know her?" asked Alan, as he removed his own helm. As he did so, he saw the Spartans' grip on their rifles tighten out of the corner of his eye.

"Only by reputation," replied Nicole. "Kelly-087 was nicknamed 'Rabbit' by her squad, because she used herself as quick bait to lure enemy soldiers into traps. She was said to be the fastest Spartan alive!" She spoke with a tone of the upmost awe in her voice. "We're standing before a UNSC legend here, Captain."

"So we're not entirely forgotten by the outside world," an older-sounding female voice said from further down the ramp. More footsteps were heard, then the voice's owner appeared. She was an older woman with short white hair, wearing the white lab coat of a UNSC science officer. In spite of the signs of aging on her face she held an impressive figure with authority in her stride. As she reached the top of the ramp and stood beside the Spartan with the rabbit insignia, she regarded the group with a hard look from her grey eyes. With a start, it occurred to Alan that the woman looked like how he imagined the UNSC AI known as Cortana might look if she aged about twenty years, but there was none of the warmth of Cortana to this woman. She looked much colder and harder, with even the voice having a frosty edge to it. With a start, Alan realised he could take a good guess as to who was now standing before them.

"A Spartan," Dr. Catherine Halsey said, looking at each group member in turn. "An Elite." She paused when she looked at Alan and Megellan, her brow furrowed. "I'm not even sure what to call the two of you. Tell me who you all are and why you are here, and my Spartans may not need to shoot you."

0

Inside it, the Collector Homeworld looked like a larger-scale version of the Collector Ship. The walls were still covered in the same brown chitin, with the same fungus-like lights hanging overhead, and whatever surfaces were not covered in chitin consisted of the same dark metal as the ship. The tunnels were larger, and gaping chasms could be seen on either side of the large paths. A murky mist seemed to cling to every surface, and the Collectors swarmed from all sides, seeming to jump out of every wall and drop down from the incredibly high ceiling. There was no sign of any art, no indication that the Collectors did anything creative. Shepard recalled a discussion she had with Mordin prior to the attack on the Heretic station, when she had learned that he was a keen follower of the works of Gilbert and Sullivan; he theorised that everything about the Collectors, even their very souls, had been replaced by technology. There was nothing about the Forerunners that was left, certainly not any inclination towards culture or a desire to express themselves or ask questions about the way they perceived the universe. All of that was gone, with no hope of salvation; all that remained were the machines that carried out King Ghidorah's orders without question.

She, Grunt and Thane had gunned down countless waves of Collector drones as they had fought their way through the dimly-lit passages, stopping every now and then to open the gates in the ventilation shaft so that Tali could proceed and avoid getting cooked. Now they had reached the heavy doors that separated them from the central area. The last she had heard, Garrus' team had reached the other set of doors and were pinned down by Collectors, waiting on Tali to get the doors open. Grunt was in his element, cutting down Collectors three at a time with the huge Claymore shotgun that he carried, while Thane sent bullets through the heads of distant drones with his rifle as if he was psychically guiding each bullet to their goal.

"We're in position!" barked Shepard into her commlink. "Get this door open now!" A few seconds passed, as she and her companions dived for cover, bracing themselves for powerful shots from the flame-covered Collector, the one possessed by King Ghidorah himself.

"_Something's wrong!"_ Tali's voice answered. _"I can't get the door open!"_

Shepard mentally read every prayer that she had ever heard. As if in answer, the door suddenly slid open a fraction, enough for her, Thane and Grunt to slip inside. Tali was kneeled beside the door, her fingers frantically flying over the holographic controls.

"Here they come!" shouted Shepard as she fired behind her, cutting down more Collector drones. More of them were gathering, preparing to charge the door. Behind Shepard, Garrus directed the others towards the door; Tali had been able to open their door first and close it.

"Suppressing fire!" the Turian barked, as the others lined up in front of him, weapons at the ready. "Don't let anyone through!"

All ten members of the squad fired simultaneously, decimating the wave of drones before them. After a few seconds of concentrated fire, the door slammed shut. Tali gasped, trying to stop herself from shaking.

"Nice one, Tali," said Shepard, kneeling over to catch her breath. "I knew you wouldn't let me down." Tali just nodded as she made sure the door was locked good and tight before pulling herself to her feet.

"Shepard," said Miranda, looking behind the group to the chamber beyond. "You need to see this!"

The others turned to look where Miranda was facing, and before them they saw the central chamber. It was a vast space, with Collector pods lining the wall. Above them they saw huge pipes stretching down the length of the cavern before them. Most of the Collector pods were at floor level, and peering inside the team saw that they all contained the missing _Normandy_ crew, unconscious and apparently oblivious to the outside world. The closest tube contained a dark-haired woman who was not one of the crew.

"Looks like one of the missing colonists," said Miranda. Unbeknownst to any of the group, the woman was Lilith from the Horizon colony. While the others went to inspect the other pods, Shepard moved closer to Lilith's pod. The woman stirred as a sickly-looking gas was pumped into the pod. Red blotches began to appear on her skin, and her eyes snapped open.

"Oh God!" Shepard exclaimed. "She's still alive!"

Lilith panicked and began beating her fists against the clear front of the pod, the blotches turning darker and covering more of her skin, until they covered her whole body and became as red as blood. As she continued to beat the glass in vain, her flesh began to stick to it. Shepard tried to pull the pod open, but it was no use, and she came to the horrifying realisation that the woman was being eaten alive! A horrific scream came from inside the pod, but was quickly silenced, as the unfortunate victim seemed to disintegrate before Shepard's appalled eyes, every piece of her – clothes, flesh, even bone and hair – dissolving into a thick grey paste.

"Get them out of there!" Shepard yelled to her strike team, pointing at the stricken _Normandy_ crew. "Hurry!"

The others didn't hesitate, and set to on breaking open the pods. Some were able to be pulled open through sheer force, while others had the glass fronts smashed. It was frantic, back-breaking work, especially as there was no telling when the mist would be pumped into the pods and any of them would be destroyed. Thankfully, the pods quickly yielded, thanks in no small part to the combined Technomancy of Miranda and Jacob, and each member of the crew was released, dazed and fearful. The last to be released was Dr. Chakwas, who was pulled out by Shepard after Miranda had managed to pull the pod open.

"Dr. Chakwas!" called Shepard, as she laid the aged doctor on the ground beside the rest of the recovering crew. "Are you okay?!" Chakwas stirred, and she raised her chest off the ground, as all around her the rest of the crew hobbled to their feet, aided by the strike team.

"Shepard?" she said, her eyes widening as she saw her commanding officer. "You... You came for us."

"No-one gets left behind," said Shepard firmly, reaching out a hand and pulling Chakwas to her feet.

"Thank God you got here in time," gasped Kelly Chambers, looking on the verge of tears. "A few more seconds, and... I don't even want to think about it."

"The colonists were... processed," said Dr. Chakwas, clutching her side and looking up at the pipes. "That gas contains swarms of little robots, and they..." She paused, as if hardly daring to believe her own words. "They melted their bodies into grey liquid and pumped it through these tubes."

"Why are they doing this?" asked Shepard, shaking her head. "What are they doing with our genetic material?"

"I don't know," replied Chakwas, her eyes closed. "I'm just glad you got here before the same thing happened to us."

"So are we," said Miranda, standing beside Shepard and looking around the rest of the group. "But we still have a job to do. We've done well so far. Let's hope we can finish the job."

"Joker?" said Shepard into her commlink. "Can you get a fix on our position?"

"_Roger that, Commander,"_ replied Joker. _"All those tubes lead into the main control room right above you. The route is blocked by a security door, but there's another chamber that runs parallel to the one you're in."_

"_I cannot recommend that,"_ EDI chimed in. _"Thermal emissions suggest the chamber is overrun with Seeker Swarms. Mordin's countermeasure cannot protect you against so many at once."_

"Conventional weapons would be useless," said Shepard. "They'd tear us apart."

"Maybe not," Samara suddenly said. "I might be able to generate a biotic field to keep them at bay. I won't be able to protect all of us, but I could get a small team through if they stayed close."

"Right," said Shepard, nodding. "Samara and I will take Jacob and Legion through the swarms."

Both Jacob and Legion readied their weapons and stood forward, Jacob simply saluting while Legion gave a robotic "Acknowledged."

"The rest of you," said Shepard, turning back to the others, "go with Garrus and provide a diversion by going through the main passage. We'll open the security doors from the other side and meet you there."

"We'll keep 'em busy, Shepard," nodded Garrus. "Just sneak through the back as quickly as you can."

"What about me and the rest of the crew, Shepard?" asked Chakwas. "We're in no shape to fight."

"_Commander?"_ Joker suddenly cut in. _"We have enough systems back online to do a pickup, but we'd need to land back from your position."_

"We can't afford to go back, Shepard!" said Miranda, shaking her head. "Not now!"

"They'll never make it without help," replied Shepard.

"Joker," Mordin suddenly cut in, speaking into his Omni-Tool. "Need location of landing zone. Will meet you there." Apparently the Salarian had just volunteered himself to be the crew's escort, and Shepard didn't feel that there was any time to argue. She knew she had to trust Mordin to get the rest of the crew back to safety.

"We all have our assignements," barked Shepard, as everyone organised themselves into their various teams. "Let's move out!" Trying to steady her nerves again, she led Samara, Jacob and Legion towards the next passage, watching Garrus lead the others another way and Mordin leading the crew back the way they had come. She gripped the barrel of her rifle tightly, knowing that they had even more reason to stop the Collectors in their tracks, and that the mission was getting more dangerous by the minute.

0

After the _Serenity_ crew had made introductions and explained what they were doing there, Dr. Halsey had not changed her expression. She still maintained a frosty look at the group, even as she ordered the Spartan soldiers to stand down and led the group down into the bunker. She had not made any indication of surprise or disbelief at the group's account. Alan was sure that she was doing it to keep the group on their toes and ensure that they were never comfortable. After everything he had heard about Dr. Halsey, Alan's opinion of her wasn't in any way raised by this.

The bunker was littered with UNSC terminals and other equipment, arranged to form a hastily-made camp, complete with weapon racks and computer consoles with holographic displays. One of the displays showed a holographic map of the Shield Installation. The area was dimly-lit, and there did not seem to be any obvious beds; the camp was designed for functionality rather than comfort. Manning some of the consoles were three large bulbous creatures that seemed to radiate a soft violet light of their own.

"What the hell are those?!" whispered Nicole, peering at them with wide eyes.

"Huragoks," replied Alan. "Don't worry; they're harmless." He recognised Huragoks, as one known as Swifty served on the _Shadow of Darkness_ as the chief engineer. They did not speak, only whistled, but their capability with machinery and technology was second to none. Also in the room was a man in military fatigues, with balding silver hair, blue eyes and scars running from his brow to his chiselled chin. He was hunched over one of the consoles where one of the Huragok was stationed.

"So even though we got the shields back in place," he was saying in a gruff tone, "that few seconds would be enough for them to get a lock on us?" The Huragok gave a sad-sounding whistle and nodded.

"Damnit..." the man growled, before turning away and walking up to Halsey. "Looks like we'd better start the evacuation. No doubt the Didact's already picked up our trail and is on his way here."

"You've got these clowns to thank for that," said Halsey, nudging her thumb back towards the _Serenity_ crew. "They're the ones who tore down our barriers to get inside."

"Oh yeah?" the soldier replied, looking at the team for the briefest of moments. "And who the hell are they supposed to be? This the UNSC's idea of a cavalry?"

"They say that they're part of the Fleet Shadow of Fury," said Halsey. "If that's true, then Telek 'Heros' standards have certainly slipped if he's allowing rabble such as this to serve under his command. They say they came here under orders from Kiryuu Knight to find us, but had a run-in with the Prometheans outside. I don't hold much hope for this rescue mission if this is how it has started."

"Hey!" bellowed Alan, now looking very indignant. "We're standing right here!" He began to step towards the doctor, but the Spartan known as Kelly stomped in front of him and held him firm.

"That's close enough, Fright Features," she said firmly, pushing against Alan with a lot of force. The mutant staggered back, looking past Kelly to focus on the back of Halsey's head, looking as if he was looking for a good place to stick a knife in it.

"Tell me what the fuck's going on!" shouted Alan, losing his temper. "What were those fucking things that attacked us, what the fuck is a Didact, and how the fuck did this place end up in slipspace?!"

"In case it wasn't abundantly clear, Alan Tyler," replied Dr. Halsey in a venomous tone, spinning around on her heel to glare at him, "we have no time to answer questions. Thanks to you bunglers we now have to evacuate this base before-"

"Knock it off, Halsey," the soldier cut in gruffly, frowning at Halsey. "They weren't to know about this place, or the Prometheans. Now that they're here, we're just gonna have to make the best of it, and we owe 'em some form of explanation." He turned to look at the _Serenity_ crew. "I'm Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez of the UNSC. You've already met Dr. Catherine Halsey and Blue Team." He indicated Halsey and the Spartans who were unresponsive, but Nicole let out a small gasp.

"John-117's old unit?!" she said in utter awe. "Everyone thought they were all dead!"

"We've had losses along the way," replied Mendez, shaking his head, "but we've kept the name alive all this time in the honour of those who've died. Kelly's team, made up of Spartan-IIs and Spartan-IIIs, is probably the finest team of Spartans I have ever seen."

"Proud to be here with you, sir," said Kelly, as she and the other Spartans saluted Mendez.

"Have your team pack up all the gear that they can and prime what we can't take to blow," said Mendez, returning a salute. "We'll be bugging out soon." As Kelly and her team moved over to begin packing equipment away, the veteran returned a salute before turning back to Alan, who was now scratching his chin.

"Spartan-IIs and IIIs?" the mutant asked. "The Spartan program's up to the Spartan-IV mark now. How long have you been stuck here?"

"Must be about two years now," replied Mendez. "By our reckoning, at least. We were first pulled here when the Sentinels that made up Onyx's outer surface woke up and tore the whole planet apart. Last I heard we were still trying to stop the Covenant from blowing the whole galaxy to Kingdom Come." He peered over at Dorva, whose eyes had closed and his head hung; the guilt of the crimes they had committed during the Covenant War stayed with most Sangheili to this day, and with Dorva more than most.

"That must have been about seven years ago, by our count," said Alan, rubbing the back of his head. "The distortions must have affected how time works here. A lot's changed since you arrived here, mate."

"You can tell me all about it when we get out of here," said Mendez. "Right now, all that matters is what's relevant to our current situation. You asked us what the Prometheans are, and who the Didact is. I think that one's best left to Dr. Halsey to answer."

"From what we have been able to learn from the archives on this installation," said Halsey, "they are a combination of the digital and the organic. The Forerunners discovered what they believed was the key to immortality; by using a device called the Composer, they found a way to convert organic matter into digital data. However, it didn't work as they had hoped; the stored personalities fragmented and attempts to restore their physical forms failed."

"The arrogance of the Usurpers will never cease to amaze me," muttered Megellan. Alan had not told Halsey exactly what Megellan was; at this point, he wanted to avoid any more awkward questions, though Halsey was bound to notice the signs of Technomancy on the Precursor.

"As for the Didact," continued Halsey, apparently not hearing Megellan, "the data suggests that he was the commander of the entire Forerunner military. He came up with the idea of using the Prometheans to fight the Flood, as they had no organic matter to consume. To this end, he actually used the Composer on a human population that had been moved to protect them from the firing of the Halos, turning them into Prometheans under his command."

"Wait, wait..." Alan interrupted, waving his hands and then pointing up towards the door. "Are you telling me that those things out there were human?!"

"Yes, Tyler," said Halsey, folding her arms. "That's exactly what I'm telling you. Eventually a Forerunner scientist called Keisad Ishan learned what he had done and managed to imprison him here, reprogramming his Promethean army to guard his prison. The Composer was hidden away on Halo 03." With a start, Alan recognised the name 'Keisad Ishan'; it was the name of the Forerunner that the Monitor known as Vigil had its personality imprints based on, and also one of the scientists who had worked to sabotage the Citadel and create the Conduit. If it had not been for their efforts, the Reapers would have been able to gain total control of the Relay network and resume their Cycle of Extinction long ago. Alan looked over at Megellan, who looked deep in thought. He assumed it was rare to hear of a Forerunner who apparently sympathised with Humanity. There was a great deal that Dr. Halsey and her group didn't know, but bringing them up to speed would have to wait.

"That's how it was until a few weeks ago," said Mendez. He looked over to one of the Spartans, who oddly enough seemed smaller than the others. "Lucy there could tell you all about what happened." At this Lucy froze, and a sigh could be heard coming from her as she shook her head and then carried on with preparing her assault rifle.

"She followed what she thought was a signal from normal space," said Halsey, frowning. "She figured it would lead her to a transmission array that we could use to get a message to the UNSC. It led right to the Didact's Cryptum, which opened when Lucy tried to use the controls on it. He was in turn able to bring the Prometheans back under his control."

"To be fair," Mendez cut in, "she redeemed herself by finding those Huragoks. They helped us set up our defence systems to keep us off the Didact's radar. Neither he nor the Prometheans could detect us while the shields were up. From what Lucy told us, he's got a God complex and a chip on his shoulder the size of the Orion Arm. He hates humans, and wants us all either dead or part of his robot army. We figure he's gonna try to get off Onyx and find the Composer, and if he manages that then we're all in serious trouble."

"Now thanks to your efforts," Halsey chimed in with a glare, "we'll be the first ones on the list. He now knows where we are, and I suspect it won't be long until he gets here and kills us all. He's a Technomantic Master, and Lucy is very lucky to even be alive."

"Well excuse me," Alan retorted, "but we didn't exactly have time to knock on the door and ask you to let us in."

"We're ready to go here, sir," Kelly interrupted, her team and the Huragoks now laden with bundles containing the equipment they could spare. "Scuttle charges are set with a ten minute countdown."

All of a sudden there was a violent crash coming from above the group, and everyone looked upwards, their faces very grave. The Spartans raised their weapons to the ceiling, where already the sounds of heavy footsteps could be heard. Mendez pointed to a nearby table, where the _Serenity_ crew's weapons had been placed, and nodded. It was clear that he saw no choice but to let them wander around armed, though something in his expression told Alan that soon it wouldn't matter.

"Is there a back door to this place?" Alan said in a whisper as he grabbed his Technomantic weaponry before handing the rest of the guns to Dorva and Nicole. Mendez could only briefly nod, and as he did so large cracks appeared in the ceiling, and the whole thing suddenly seemed to dissolve, the group getting showered by debris. As everyone gasped for air, every surface around them covered in a layer of dust, a deep, cold, hissing voice could be heard that seemed to resound all around them, as fine teal cords began to descend from the room above.

"So fades the great harvest of my betrayer. Keisad Ishan left little to chance, turning my own guardians – my own world – against me. But what hubris to believe that he could protect his pets from me forever." The cords crept closer to each person, until one of them actually touched Dorva, causing him almost to shout out loud. "If you haven't mastered even these primitives, then Humanity has not attained the Mantle. Your ascendance may yet be prevented."

It was then that the speaker floated down into the camp, just as the cords suddenly reached out and grabbed everyone. As much as they struggled they could not break free from the ghostly Technomantic cords. As Alan raised his head, he saw that the figure was wearing ornate silver combat armour, lined with fiery red lights. A silver helmet with red eye-lights peeled itself back, revealing a pale face with no hair, snake-like nostrils where a nose should be, and long fangs that made him somewhat resemble a vampire. He bore the markings of being connected to the Array; the triangular tattoos on his cheeks and a cyan glow masking his true eye colour. As he looked around at each of the human faces, his face was a perfect mask of disgust and contempt. Alan realised that this could only be the Didact.

"Time was once your ally, humans," the Didact continued, now peering deeply into Halsey's eyes as she was lifted off her feet, struggling against her bonds, suddenly crying out in pain as if something was being jabbed into her. "But now it has abandoned you. The Forerunners have returned. This tomb is now yours."

0

It was a close call. Shepard's team had barely made it through the winding passages, infested with Seeker Swarms. They had tried their hardest to pierce Samara's biotic shielding with no success, and they had been attacked every step of the way by drones and Husks. Samara herself had been on the verge of collapse, her mind taxed to its limits trying to maintain the shield. Fortunately her resolve had held, and she had detonated her biotic bubble when all four team members had reached the exit, causing the Seekers and all surviving drones to be blasted away, their bodies splashed to the four winds. By the time they regrouped, the door was already sealed and Shepard's team was safe.

The rest of the squad were saved too, for Legion had succeeded in hacking the door controls long enough for them to get through to safety, sealing the security door behind them. There had been a moment of panic when Garrus had stumbled against the wall, clutching his side, but thankfully that had been a false alarm; he was just catching his breath and clutching a stitch in his side. He recovered quickly and went to join the others in the centre of the chamber. This appeared to be a large antechamber before the main control room, with a raised podium that Shepard recognised as one of the hexagon-shaped floating platforms, similar in design to the ones in the Collector ship. Her squad would be safe here for the time-being; while they had a moment to breathe, she decided to check on the rest of the _Normandy_ crew.

"Joker," she said into her commlink, "are you at the rendezvous point?"

"_I'm here, Commander,"_ said Joker. _"Mordin just showed up with Chakwas and the rest of the crew. No casualties."_

"Excellent," said Miranda, who was listening in. "Now let's make it count. EDI, what's our next step?"

"_There should be some nearby platforms that will take you to the main control console,"_ was EDI's reply. _"From there you can overload the system and destroy the base."_

"_Uh, Commander?"_ Joker chimed in. _"You got a problem. Hostiles massing just outside the door. Won't be long until they bust through."_

Shepard climbed onto the raised platform, looking back at the rest of the group. They had survived this long, but she knew that if they all went into the central control room the Collectors would overwhelm them. They had to hold them here, buy a smaller group enough time to overload the station's systems.

"A rearguard could defend this position and keep the Collectors from overwhelming us," she said. "Miranda and Tali will go with me. The rest of you bunker down and keep the Collectors off our backs." She figured that she would not need brute strength to overload the systems; Tali's expertise and Miranda's Technomancy would suffice. Experienced fighters like Garrus and Grunt would be better suited to helping stave off the overwhelming numbers the rearguard would doubtless face.

"Anything you want to say before we do this?" asked Miranda, as she prepared her pistol. Shepard looked down at the rest of the group, feeling everyone's eyes on her. There was a great deal of expectation on their faces; clearly they were all looking to her to achieve the impossible, and they all knew the stakes.

"The Collectors, the Reapers..." Shepard began. "They're not a threat to us; they're a threat to everything and everyone. Those are the lives we're fighting for. That's the scale." She paced in front of everyone, peering into each face with an expression of pride. Below her everyone looked resolute; she even saw Grunt beating his fist into his palm, clearly ready for the fight.

"It's been a long journey," she continued, "and no-one's coming out without scars. But it all comes down to this moment. We win or lose it all in the next few minutes. Make me proud." She stopped and looked around at everyone, her arms folded and with fire in her eyes. "Make yourselves proud."

"Well said," said Miranda, smiling. "Let's go finish this."

It was then that the platform began to move, down a long and winding tunnel, following the large tubes that Shepard had seen earlier. Some of the walls were open, revealing the accretion disk outside, shining brightly in the dust. More platforms appeared with more Collectors riding on them, but they were cut down quickly by a combination of gunfire and Technomantic attacks. When the waves of drones desisted, Shepard looked around her, noticing that the number of tubes was increasing the further down the tunnel they floated. Clearly, they were getting close.

"This is it," she said. "All the tubes lead to this spot. EDI, what can you tell us? What are they doing?"

"_The tubes are feeding into some kind of super-structure,"_ said EDI. _"It's emitting both organic and non-organic energy signatures. Given these readings, it must be massive."_ The platform reached the end of the tunnel, which opened out into a gigantic chamber, dimly lit with a blue light. Much of the chamber was in darkness, as a shadow from a colossal object fell over a bunch of connected floating platforms. As the platform flew closer, Shepard's eyes widened when she saw exactly what the object was.

"_Shepard,"_ EDI continued, her tone becoming very grave, _"if my calculations are correct, the super-structure... is a Reaper."_

"Not just any Reaper..." Shepard breathed, for as the platform docked the group now got a good look at what the super-structure looked like. "A Human Reaper."

"_Precisely,"_ finished EDI.

The structure looked like the top half of a gigantic metal skeleton, supported from the ceiling by huge metal pipes connecting into its shoulders. It was clearly incomplete, as only the skull, the arms and part of the chest were present, with the core visible inside an incomplete ribcage and the spinal column exposed. The complex circuitry inside glowed with a blue light, every piston and joint visible. Shepard could now guess as to what the Collectors were doing with humans, and it made her sick to think of how they were constructing this mockery of human life.

"Keelah..." Tali gasped. She raised her Omni-Tool and swept it in front of her; apparently she was now recording everything that was going on in front of her.

"_It appears that the Collectors have processed tens of thousands of humans,"_ said EDI, a tone of disgust now audible underneath her efforts to remain analytical. _"Significantly more will be required to complete the Reaper."_

"How many more are we talking here?" asked Miranda, looking mortified.

"_Millions,"_ breathed EDI. _"Perhaps more. Impossible to know for certain. This Reaper appears to be in a very early stage of development; an embryo, in human terms."_

"So it's not alive yet?" asked Shepard. "We can still stop it from being... created?"

"_The process can be stopped,"_ said EDI, _"but it is unclear exactly how much it has developed. I cannot, for example, tell you if it has awareness."_

"They're building it to look like a human," said Tali, shaking her head. "Why? Sovereign looked nothing like this, and was much bigger."

"_It appears that a Reaper's shape is based upon the species used to create it,"_ mused EDI. _"The cuttlefish appearance we associate with Reapers may in fact be a kind of protective shell, hiding the true Reaper inside. If that is true, then the relationship between the Reaper and the shell is symbiotic."_

"Reapers are machines," said Shepard. "Why do they need humans at all?"

"_Incorrect,"_ said EDI. _"Reapers are sapient constructs; a hybrid of organic and inorganic material. The exact construction methods are unclear, but it seems probable that the Reapers absorb the essence of a species, utilising it in their own reproduction process."_

"That still doesn't explain what King Ghidorah hopes to gain by turning humans into this Reaper shell," said Shepard. "The other Reapers are like parts or clones of him; Sovereign told me this himself. I thought King Ghidorah divided himself over and over to make them."

"_It may be the case that facilitating that method of reproduction exhausted him to the point where he was no longer capable of doing so,"_ said EDI. _"It is probable that he had to seek alternative methods during the Cycle of Extinction, and this was the result. Or it may serve another purpose entirely. Cerberus has little information regarding King Ghidorah's precise nature. I am merely offering hypothetical scenarios, and I do not have the necessary data to speculate further. However, it is clear that the Collectors are merely pawns. The technology and the ability needed to create this Reaper is not their own. It is likely that different species construct each Reaper. In this case, the Collectors provide the labour."_

"The Collectors are just Forerunners," said Tali, shrugging. "Why would they help King Ghidorah?"

"_The Reapers subdued the Forerunners long ago,"_ said EDI. _"Probabilities suggest that the Hydra tried to create a Forerunner Reaper, and failed due to the detonation of the Halos. Over time he adapted the surviving Forerunners to suit his needs. Changed them. Cloned them and turned them into workers; tools for his Reaper spawn. The Collectors are, in essence, Forerunner Husks."_

While EDI had been speaking, Shepard had been peering at the Human Reaper with her chin on her hand and a thoughtful expression. She could not get EDI's idea about this creature serving a purpose other than reproduction out of her head. She looked over at Miranda for a moment, who looked revolted. A theory was forming in Shepard's head, but she knew that she had wasted enough time trying to understand what the Reapers were doing. Further speculation had to wait, especially as she was sure she could hear the low hum of approaching platforms.

"This thing is an abomination," she snarled, raising her rifle. "EDI, how can we destroy it?"

"_The large tubes injecting the fluid are a weak structural link,"_ said EDI. _"Destroying them would cause the supports to collapse, and the Reaper to fall."_As Shepard watched, she saw metal plates on the four tubes sliding back, revealing plexiglass underneath that showed the vile fluid generated from the processed humans. What purpose this served Shepard could not say for certain, but she knew that it was giving her something she could shoot at. However, she saw that they could not shoot at the tubes immediately, for the platforms that Shepard had heard were now approaching, and all three women were forced to dive for cover as the Collectors opened fire on them.

"Give us a minute, EDI," grunted Shepard, holding her rifle close to her chest. "We've gotta take care of some old friends first."


	22. Sound and Fury

**Sound and Fury**

The Didact let Halsey's body drop with a heavy thud, stepping over her. There was a slight moan coming from the scientist; she was obviously alive. The Forerunner was much taller than an average Elite and Alan thought he could give Telek a run for his money on height. Each of them was bound tightly in pale, blue, ghostly cords, the cords that writhed and wiggled out from behind the base of the Didact's neck. The humans could not even utter a word, their voices silenced through the Didact's hold upon them.

"A pity such efforts were wasted upon a species unworthy to wield and protect the power of the Array," he said as he passed between each human. "How could any one choose your people to learn the secrets of the Array? Why would they?"

"Maybe because we liked them better than you."

The Didact turned and noticed a being standing among his captives, one he only now took interest in, and only now looked upon with great horror. There, wrapped in the cords was Megellan, whom he knew as the Prisoner of Charum Hakkor. Megellan stood there, not even attempting to wiggle out of his restraints. Upon his lupine face was a smile of confidence, his glowing blue eyes piercing deeply into the Forerunner.

"No," he said, utterly disbelieving what he saw. "No. Impossible. You were imprisoned!"

"And the People whom my own has rightfully trusted with the Mantle have freed me," said Megellan.

The Didact gritted his fangs, exhaling out a growl, his eyes now taking on a blazing red glow. Megellan shook his head. Those red eyes were not natural for a Technomancer. He could sense something dark, cold, sinister inside of the Didact through his own Connection. The darkness leaked out of the Forerunner like maggots from rotting flesh. Megellan heard the tone that the Didact emitted with his pale cords, a disrupting chorus that the Lengodo could only liken to that of the Hydra himself.

"You have corrupted Her Gift, Didact," said Megellan. "This is why we did not choose your people. This thing you are, it only poisons the Array." He took in a deep breath, finally uttering the name that should not be spoken. "Takhisis would not be pleased with your work. You have gone against Her Number One Law. Never interfere with the Free Will of others."

"Do you see Takhisis here?" the Didact asked. "The only will that needs to be imposed upon this galaxy is our will! These primitive creatures would only destroy each other if we had not interfered."

"And if that is their will, that is their will," said Megellan. "She has not come to truly give you the punishment you deserve because of what happened 250 million years ago. Believe me, if the Hydra had not come, she would have stopped you the moment you thought of your little... plan. You would have been wiped from existence."

The Didact's lip trembled as he let loose a chilled huff. He grabbed the Kethosian's lower jaw, pulling him close. In his other hand he formed a ball of pale blue light. As he squeezed his armoured hand closed, the ball of light was forced out from his fist, forming into the shape of a long, brightly glowing rod of crackling energy. He held the rod up like a sword, positioning it near Megellan's neck.

"Allow me to correct the mistake my people have made," he said. "By letting you live, Commissioner."

Megellan took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Alan's eyes grew wide, struggling against his bonds. It looked as if Megellan was resigning to his fate. Then, Megellan whispered a sequence of words.

"Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta..."

"No!" the Didact said in a growl, bringing the energy rod closer to the Precursor's neck.

"Epsilon, Zeta, Eta, Theta..."

"Silence!"

"Omega!"

Megellan's body was engulfed into a bright ball of cyan light. The force of energy exploded out, knocking the Didact back against a pile of rubble, his hand relaxing, the rod vanishing in his palm with a whiff. As the light exploded out, all of the Didact's prisoners were released from the ghostly cords, falling to their knees and gasping, as if they had the wind stolen from their lungs. The light radiated forth like a shockwave, the metal floor trembled violently. The Didact breathed heavily, his chest heaving in and out as he looked on at the glowing ball of cyan energy. The light finally faded, revealing at last Megellan standing before him; in both armoured claws he sported two of those energy rods, his cyan cords whipping out behind him as the digital information fed deeply into his mind. His wings were spread, the cape billowing out behind them.

"I'm sorry, what were you trying to do, Usurper?" Megellan asked.

"Damn you," said the Didact as he heaved himself up off the floor. "Damn you and the other Kethosians."

Megellan positioned himself into a fighting stance, each glowing blade ready for striking. The Didact leapt into the air and sent forth a powerful punch. His fist released a beam of cyan energy, tingling at his fingers as it raced forth towards Megellan. The Kethosian spun and swung both swords simultaneously. The beam collided with the swords and like a bat hitting a baseball, he hit the beam dead on, knocking the Didact backwards, implanting him deep into the groves of the ceiling. Plates off the walls fell, crashing and crumpling as they hit the floor. Megellan looked up, seeing where the Didact had been planted. The Forerunner was nowhere near dead and he struggled against the hold of the ceiling. The Precursor swept both hands back in a smooth motion, stepping forward and then thrusting them forward. Blue-white lightning streaked out from his claws, raking across the panels of the ceiling above. As a bolt hit the Didact, he let loose a scream, feeling every bit of his nerves fry with the heat of the sun itself cooking him. The lightning formed around his arms and legs, binding them in cuffs. Megellan lowered his hands and then turned to Alan and the others.

"That won't hold him," he said. "Alan, you better take the others and run."

"What about you?" Alan asked. "We can't leave you!"

"Don't worry about me, I'll catch up," said Megellan. "But I much rather have you and the others out of the way while I deal with the Usurper. I don't want you to get hurt." He looked up, seeing the Didact pull one arm free. "I have a job to do. I must end the Usurpers so that the People of Erde-Tyrene can be what we wanted you to be. So long as one of them lives, they will continue to hold sway over your lives."

Alan didn't want to leave Megellan to face the Didact on his own, but the Forerunner's little demonstration just now made it clear to him that this enemy was way beyond their ability to fight. He saw no choice but to leave the matter in the Precursor's hands. His top priority now was getting the survivors back to the ship in one piece. He nodded at Megellan, his expression hardening.

"Don't you dare die on me..." he muttered, before turning back to the gathered survivors. Mendez motioned him and the _Serenity_ crew over.

"You're on point with me!" Mendez shouted, pointing at Alan. "I'll lead us outta here, then you take us to your ship!" When Alan nodded, he turned to the Spartans. "Kelly, Ash, you cover the rear! Keep everybody together!"

"Roger!" shouted Kelly, as she and Ash gave quick salutes. Everyone drew their weapons, looking nervous and alert.

"Let's move out!" shouted Mendez, and everyone quickly followed him through a doorway and into a long passage beyond. As the last of the Spartans passed through the door, the Didact gave a loud roar, which Alan took to be the sign that he had broken free of his restraints. Not stopping to listen to the sounds of battle coming from the bunker, and trying not to think of the nightmare that Megellan faced, he followed Mendez as the CPO led the way down the tunnel, eventually reaching a set of ramps leading upwards. To Alan's mind, they resembled the stairwell of a high-rise building. It was not far to the top of the ramps, and soon Mendez had led everyone to a small security door. Nothing could be heard from the other side of the door, so it was hard to tell if it led back outside, but Alan guessed that they had to be at least a quarter of a mile away from the bunker.

"We shielded this entrance too as soon as we discovered it," said Mendez, shaking his head at the panel before turning to one of the Huragoks. "Prone, you're up."

The Huragok, Prone, drifted forward and immediately flicked its tentacles up to interact with the control panel, the cilia parting and taking it apart at an incredible speed. Huragoks had unusual names – this particular one's full name was Prone-to-Drift – and, judging from the speed they had floated at down the tunnel, they were faster than Alan gave them credit for.

"Can you get us to your ship when this door opens?" asked Mendez, turning to Alan.

"Sure, once I get my bearings," replied Alan. "Until that gravity well's switched off though, we're not going anywhere." Hitting on a sudden idea, he turned to Dorva. "Can you trace the source of the gravity well's energy?"

"I believe I can, Shipmaster," said Dorva, bringing up his Omni-Tool. "I'm only thankful that Alistair thought to record the well's energy signature. It will take time, however, and it will certainly be some distance away from here. _Serenity_'s weaponry isn't powerful enough to destroy it."

"I know," said Alan, "but Telek's on his way here. A well-placed photon torpedo from him should do the trick."

"But how will we get the outer shell open again?" asked Nicole.

"Forerunner technology is designed to react to the presence of a Reclaimer," Halsey chimed in, clutching her side. "If the shell itself opened, it may have been because of your presence. I only hope it's not a one-way system."

"Well, Telek's always going on about wanting to put his ship through its paces," replied Alan, shrugging. "If all else fails he may relish the chance to see if he can blast a hole in a Shield Installation with the main gun."

It was then that there was a click, and the security door slid open. Prone replaced the control panel and went back to rejoin the other Huragoks as Mendez said to Alan "Lead the way."

Alan was the first to step through the door, where he found that the entrance opened onto a thicker part of the forest. If he remembered right, the exit they had used was on the left-hand side of the door they had entered the bunker by. That meant that if the group headed to the right, they would soon reach the ravine, and from there could work their way back to the bridge, and eventually the ship. Of course, there was the matter of facing an army of Prometheans that wanted them all dead. Not to mention the fact that there was also a homicidal Forerunner who may find a way to subdue Megellan and come after them. They would have to move fast. As he stepped out into the forest there was a heavy explosion behind him. At first Alan thought the first of the scuttle charges had detonated, but looking around him and peering upwards through the forest canopy, he saw the outlines of Megellan and the Didact, hovering above the bunker, their cords flowing everywhere.

"We've gotta move quickly," he said to the others, trying to ignore the sounds of the fight above him. "Don't stop for anything!"

So Alan led the team through the forest, all of them running as fast as the tangled roots beneath them would allow. All kept their weapons raised and kept snatching glances to their sides, wary for any possible sign of an ambush. Several Promethean soldiers jumped out at them, some appearing from thin air and others from the trees, but the group did their best to maintain their pace. The Prometheans tried to teleport close and slice them with their red swords, but the fighters were as well-versed in melee combat as they were at ranged, and the Prometheans found themselves getting slashed by Alan's whip or smashed with the butt of a gun. The Spartans showed that their reputation was well-earned, for they did not waste a single bullet in taking down the mechanical mockeries of human life.

At last, the group reached the edge of the great ravine, and Alan led the way down to the hard-light bridge. Mercifully it had not been deactivated. As soon as the group were on the other side, they stopped to catch their breath. Mendez and Halsey, the only un-armoured people in the group, looked exhausted. The _Serenity_ was still a fair distance away. The area was eerily quiet, though Alan thought he could hear muffled sounds coming from the direction of the ship.

"Why have we not seen more Prometheans?" asked Nicole all of a sudden. Now that she had mentioned it, Alan had to admit that it was strange that they had not faced that many of the digital creatures.

"Maybe the Didact wants to retain as much of his invasion force as possible," grunted Mendez.

"Unless..." Alan said, scratching his chin. A horrible thought had occurred to him, and if he was right then their chances of escaping were getting much slimmer. With a start, he realised that his theory would account for the dull noises he could hear in the distance, and on top of those he was sure he could now hear someone yelling in pain.

"Oh fuck..."

Without another word, he broke off from the group and ran at a breakneck pace along the path leading back to the ship, branches and bushes whipping past him. He tried to ignore the yells from the rest of the group, his ears full of the pounding of his heart. A small part of his mind reminded him that was he was doing was incredibly foolhardy, as he was rushing towards what was undoubtedly a danger zone with no backup and no real plan. However, he didn't care. All he knew for certain was that he had to get to the _Serenity_, and fast. The others would be okay with Dorva and Nicole leading them; on his own he could move faster, and at that moment that was all that mattered.

0

The plexiglass front of the last tube smashed as bullets from Shepard's rifle tore into it. Shards of glass mingled with the grey fluid as it spilled out of the tube and tumbled into the abyss below like a waterfall. The impression Shepard got was of a severed umbilical cord, robbing this Reaper foetus of its essential fluids. With the loss of its supports, the Human Reaper doubled over and then, with a loud groan and a sickening crash, it plummeted into the void. Peering over the ledge, Shepard and Miranda saw it continue to fall. The abomination was gone, and once again King Ghidorah's plans had been foiled. No more Collectors were entering the chamber, so Shepard raised her commlink to check on the others. She had faith, but knew that they were facing a tough fight.

"Shepard to ground team," she said, walking back from the ledge. "Status report!"

"_It's Thane!"_ came the reply, the Drell being the first to answer, shouting over the sounds of gunfire and explosions behind him. _"We're holding, but a prompt exit is advisable!"_

"Head to the _Normandy_!" said Shepard, before switching channels to the ship. "Joker, prep the engines. I'm about to overload this place and blow it sky-high!"

"_Roger, Commander!"_ was Joker's reply. Walking back to the centre of the large platform, Shepard spotted a small raised hexagonal shape behind the main console. EDI's schematics had shown that this was a very sensitive point which connected directly to the main core. A decent-sized explosion in there would start a chain reaction which, with any luck, would destroy the station. Kneeling down, she curled her fingers inside a small indentation and pulled hard. A power transfer module raised out of the ground, with a hole inside it small enough to fit one of their grenades inside.

"_Uh, Commander?"_ Joker suddenly said as she calculated the time it would take for the grenade to find its way to the reactor. _"I've got an incoming signal from the Illusive Man. EDI's patching it through."_

Upon hearing this, Miranda raised her Omni-Tool and permitted the signal to transmit. Instantly a hologram of the Illusive Man was projected from the device, standing on the platform as if he was there in person. He peered at Shepard as she continued to kneel before the power relay, weighing her options.

"Shepard," he said. "You've done the impossible."

"I was part of a team," said Shepard. "I could never have done this without them."

"I know," said the Illusive Man. "Their efforts will not be forgotten. You all did what you had to do, and you acquired the Collector Base." His head stooped a little as he looked at something back in his office. "I'm looking at the schematics EDI uploaded. A timed radiation pulse would kill the remaining Collectors, but leave the technology and machinery intact." Tali shook her head in disbelief as the Illusive Man raised his hand and curled it into a fist, a hard gleam in his eye. "This is our chance, Shepard! They were building a Reaper! That knowledge – that framework – could save us!" At this, Shepard stood up and turned to face the Illusive Man, a look of disgust on her face. She could not believe that she had just heard what the man was proposing.

"They liquefied people!" she barked. "Turned them into something horrible! We have to destroy the base!"

"Don't be short-sighted," the Illusive Man retorted, shaking his head. "Our best chance against King Ghidorah is to turn his own resources against him!"

"I'm not so sure," Miranda chimed in, to Shepard's surprise. "Seeing it first-hand... Using anything from this base seems like a betrayal." She looked at the Illusive Man as if he had just announced that he was dying from cancer.

"If we ignore this opportunity, that would be a betrayal," said the Illusive Man, his expression hardening. "King Ghidorah was working directly with the Collectors. Who knows what information is buried there? This base is a gift; we can't just destroy it!"

"No matter what kind of technology we might find, it's not worth it," replied Shepard, shaking her head.

"Shepard," said the Illusive Man, "you died fighting for what you believed. I brought you back so that you could keep fighting. Some would say that what we did to you was going too far, but look what you've accomplished! I didn't discard you because I knew your value. Don't be so quick to discard this facility. Think of the potential!"

There was an awkward pause. Shepard couldn't help but feel that the Illusive Man had a point; studying intact Reaper technology may reveal something that could help in the upcoming war. However, after what she had seen, she was convinced that nothing good could come from keeping this base intact. She remembered the derelict Reaper and how it had been able to indoctrinate the research team apparently from beyond the grave; who was to say that the Collector Base could not do the same? This working relationship with the Illusive Man had been strenuous and not something that Shepard had wanted; now seemed as good a time as any to break it. So she shook her head, and turned back to the power relay, her mind made up.

"We'll fight and win without it," she said. "Nothing good could come from keeping this place around. Besides, I wouldn't trust you with it if you were the last person in the galaxy."

"Miranda!" the Illusive Man barked, spinning around to face his lieutenant. "Do not let Shepard destroy the base!" Tali's hand moved towards her gun holster; she knew that Miranda was loyal to Cerberus' cause and she feared the worst.

"Or what?" said Miranda, frowning in disgust at the Illusive Man. "You'll replace me next? What would you do with this place, anyway? Build your own Reaper?"

"I gave you an order, Miranda!" the Illusive Man snarled.

"I noticed," replied Miranda coldly, her eyes narrowed. "Consider this my resignation."

"Miranda!" said the Illusive Man, his tone growing more desperate as he threw his arms up into the air. "Think about what's at stake, about everything that Cerberus has done for you! You-!" He didn't get to finish his sentence, as Miranda cut him off and the hologram flickered away. The former Cerberus agent had a look of immense relief on her face.

"That felt good..." she sighed.

"Got some sense knocked into you at long last, huh?" asked Tali, relaxing a little and moving her hand away from her hip.

"I..." said Miranda. "I've been having doubts about him since I became part of this mission. I was prepared to go along with the execution of Lord Hood, as I thought there was a greater good to what the Illusive Man was doing, a reason for it all that would turn out to be for humanity's benefit. But this is too much. Seeing that look in his eyes showed me how far he's gone." She shook herself and walked over to where Shepard was working.

"Here," said Tali, handing over one of her grenades. "This one had Cerberus' name on it, but I think it will do more good here right now." Nodding appreciatively, Shepard took the grenade and placed it into the slot. After a few more adjustments, she pushed the power relay back into the floor.

"Let's move," she said, getting to her feet. "We've got ten minutes before the reactor overloads, and blows this whole station apart."

Suddenly the platform shook violently, and a loud buzzing sound seemed to fill the air around them. Shepard and Tali had heard similar sounds before, emitted by Sovereign. All three gasped when a huge skeletal hand made of metal rose up out of the pit below them and latched onto one end of the platform, and the top of a metallic skull could be seen.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Tali shouted, struggling to keep her footing as the platform trembled underneath the colossal being's weight.

"Get to cover!" shouted Shepard, as the Human Reaper grabbed onto the other end of the platform and hauled itself up, its eyes and core now shining with a blazing red light. "Looks like this thing wants a rematch!"

0

"I don't plan on it," said Megellan, hearing Alan's last words as the mutant led the charge out. Just as soon as he watched the others disappear to safety, Megellan looked back to his prisoner still struggling with his bonds. The Didact roared out, pulling a muscular, armoured arm free. Megellan ignited his blades, planting his feet firmly upon the plated floor. The Didact pulled another arm free and with one cry, blasted in a blue white flash out of the groove of the ceiling. Tiling and hull plates toppled down, their metallic crashing ringing throughout the bunker. The Didact landed, his knees buckling upon impact. He slammed his fist down, grimacing as he looked up at Megellan.

"You are just a Lengodo," he said. "If a Blitzardi were here, I might feel a little bit intimidated. You are no warrior."

He kicked off of the floor, angling his foot downward, ready to kick Megellan right in the head. The Precursor suddenly vanished in a blurry fade and all the Didact made contact with was the floor. He rose to his feet with a grunt. He felt something, like a sledgehammer, ramming right into the side of his head. Stars of green and gold filled his vision just as the Didact was thrown backwards against a wall. His vision cleared, sparks of lights shaping the rim of his sight. Then he heard the clash of an ignited sword.

"You don't know much about Lengodo, do you, Didact? We make pretty good fighters too."

The Didact turned his head, watching Megellan as he thrust his glowing sword forward. He raised his own, and the two blades clashed, sparks flying from their meeting. The Didact kicked Megellan off, tripping him up as the Didact began to rise again. The Forerunner swung his sword and Megellan countered. Blue-white webs of energy fluctuated between the meeting of their swords, their cords whipped out behind them. Outward, the light grew around them and a crackling pulse erupted between them, exploding out the ceiling of the bunker. Both fighters slammed hard onto the ground from the massive feedback, the bunker moaning from the tremor. The Didact got up and shot through the hole with a mighty leap. Megellan rose from the floor as well and followed. The alien draconic being's wings were partially spread as he hovered up over the bunker, meeting face to face with the Didact.

"I will enjoy finally putting an end to you," said the Didact.

"You can certainly try," said Megellan.

The Didact rushed forth, slicing down with the blade. Megellan vanished again, but the Didact was able to calculate his movements. Pinpoints of light flashed into his sight as the Connection was able to detect the swift movements of the Lengodo. Then, the point grew larger and the Didact swung again, meeting the far superior armour of the Kethosian with a flash and a clash. His vision was filled with the steely, metallic armour. He swung his foot out, kicking Megellan back and the Precursor slammed hard against the bunker. Just as he began to rise a flash of light blinded his vision and he felt himself being launched into the air, propelled in the blinding beam. With his visions blinded, his hearing ringing loudly, Megellan felt a fist uppercut his jaw. The Didact was more than correct; Megellan was no warrior. He was a scientist. He used his skills, the knowledge from the Array for scientific purposes, not fighting. That was the job of the Blitzardi.

As he was, he could not hope to defeat one who was trained and hardened in battle. As he slammed upon the floor of the bunker, the pain racking against his skull, Megellan knew that he had to cheat. The Didact had to die and Megellan was running out of time. He had to kill the Usurper soon. The Didact slammed hard upon Megellan's back, the shards of the floor scraping against his face. Deep blue-black blood dripped in a thin line down his cheek.

"I am not impressed," said the Didact. "It is no wonder you Lengodo were held under the thumbs of the Blitzardi for so long. You are just as weak as the humans."

"I take that as a compliment," said Megellan, grunting against the pain of the Didact's knee in his spine.

The ground trembled as the next set of explosives went off, and fire began to consume the basement level of the bunker. He was running out of time.

"Fine," he said. "You want to fight a Blitzardi so badly, Usurper?"

The Didact let go of him, pointing the tip of his cyan, glowing blade right at Megellan's back. Megellan closed his eyes, allowing the feed of the Array to flow into him. His muscles flexed and bulged out, electricity sparking up and down his cloaked form. The Didact stepped back, staring back with his piercing, red eyes. Megellan began to rise from the ground and the Didact could taste lead upon his tongue and smell ozone burning in the air. There was a peculiar gleam in Megellan's glowing eyes and his scales seemed to have taken on a coppery-golden sheen in the light of the sparks. Still, the electricity fluctuated around him, sparking and popping off of his body.

"A Blitzardi?" the Didact asked.

"Only on my mother's side," said Megellan. With a flash of lightning, he vanished, becoming like that of the bolt, striking the Didact. The Forerunner roared out as he felt every bit of his nerves fry, his blood vessels pop inside of his body. The Didact fell to his knees, his body still sizzling and smoking. Megellan turned around.

"You know," Megellan began, tilting his head. "You're fighting with someone who has faced Cerenath Khan personally. Trust me; you're much sloppier than he was."

The Didact rose to his feet, still feeling some of the aching numbness of the electricity. He launched, swiftly bolting for the Lengodo. With a blurring speed, the Forerunner zigzagged his movements, trying to confuse Megellan. The Precursor held his hand out and the Didact slammed upon a wall of invisible force. Megellan thrusted his fist and the Forerunner shot off, bouncing and rolling with bone-breaking speed upon the ground. Megellan jetted across the ground, clouds of debris rising up from behind him. The Didact felt the Lengodo's fist collide with his torso and he buckled over. Megellan swung his tail and sent the Didact flying back toward the wall of the bunker, his body once more firmly planted into its side. He once more jetted over the ground as the Didact pushed himself from the metallic plating. His armour sparked, cracks forming along the surface, revealing the alien circuitry inside. Megellan raised his hand and clenched it into a fist. The Forerunner felt something grab hold of his waist and begin to squeeze his ribs tightly. His armour buckled under the unforeseen hand.

"Tell me why, Precursor..." the Didact said, grunting as the hand closed in. "Tell me why you chose the humans! Why not us?

"I told you," said Megellan. "We liked them better than you."

"Not sufficient of an answer."

"Very well," said Megellan. He ignited his sword again, bringing it up to the Didact's neck. "It was not my kind who chose the humans but the Blitzardi. Because they saw in the People of Erde-Tyrene something that none of us found in you. They were exactly like the Blitzardi in every way. The Blitzardi knew they had found a kindred species that could become perfect little soldiers in the fight against King Ghidorah. You? A bunch of little whiny bitches who cried each time we never praised your achievements. The Blitzardi grew tired of even looking at you, and my people, well, we were just sick of your constant badgering for attention."

The Didact growled, coughing as the invisible hand squeezed him even tighter.

"And then like a spoiled brat, your people stole what rightfully did not belong to you because you wanted it so badly," said Megellan. "And you patted yourselves on the back for it. But your people could never truly figure out our secret in keeping King Ghidorah and his Abominations at bay. And you never will. In the end, you succumbed to King Ghidorah as all have before." He placed the blade right at the Didact's neck. "I wonder if your head will roll the same way Khan's head did."

"Khan is dead?" the Didact asked.

"Didn't get that memo, did you? Yes, Emperor Cerenath Khan, the Tyrant, is dead. Long live Xi Kedzuel."

Megellan swung and with a flash of light, sliced the ancient Forerunner's head clean off his neck. He looked on, watching the head bounce upon the ground rather dully, dark blood spilling out. Megellan let go of the Didact's body and it plopped heavily right beside the head.

"It did not," said Megellan in a disappointed, but dry tone, dismissing his sword. "Hmmm."

With that, he kicked off and began to race towards the entrance of the bunker. He wiped a bit of his blood off as he swiftly made it up the ramp and reached the ground floor. With one great leap, he jumped over the hole the Didact had created, sprinting out of the destroyed front entrance. The last of the explosives ignited behind him, the blast consuming the bunker and the concussive force of it throwing Megellan forward. He rolled over a couple of times on the dusty ground in front of the bunker, stunned but otherwise unharmed. As he staggered to his feet, he gathered the ball of cyan energy into his armoured claw and clenched it tight, forming once more his sword. Once he had caught his breath back, he ran at top speed back to the bridge. His pointed ears twitched as he heard voices on the other side of the ravine. Dashing across the bridge, he found the others. The Spartans turned, pointing their guns directly at him.

"Wait!" Megellan held up his hand, lowering his sword. "It's just me."

"Commissioner!" Dorva called. "You're alright!"

"Where's the Didact?" Mendez asked.

"Headless," said Megellan. "If by 'where he is' you meant, what his condition was–"

Halsey's steely eyes narrowed and she breathed in and out, looking with heated scrutiny at this strange thing that the one called Alan Tyler was travelling with. Earlier she assumed he was just another alien that the UNSC had discovered during her absence, but no; this creature was something much more. She saw the glowing cyan cords from his neck, the three black, triangular stripes upon his cheeks, his constant glowing blue eyes, and now the sword that he held created by his own energy. She knew a Technomantic Master when she saw one. It did not make any sense to her how this strange being was able to use Technomancy, when the only other aliens aside from humans capable of using it were the Forerunners.

"Who are you, what are you, and how do you know how to use Technomancy?"

"This is hardly the time to ask such questions," said Megellan. "Given your deteriorating state, madam." He looked around at the group, taking note that one was missing. "Where is Captain Tyler?"

"He ran off," said Mendez. "We don't know where he has gone."

"Well, I hope whatever it is that he is doing, it will be beneficial," said Megellan, shrugging, dismissing his sword.

0

On board the _Serenity_, the time that had passed since Alan, Nicole, Dorva and Megellan had disembarked had been quiet. The ship's cargo bay door had been left open to let some fresh air in, but there did not seem to be any breeze to be felt. Alistair sat on the ramp, his eyes on the horizon. He had not moved from this spot for some time, noting the stillness all around him. As well as the absence of breeze, he had found the absence of any kind of life, even animals that were usually kept on the Halos, troubling. Every instinct in his body was telling him that something was wrong, to the point where he had even strapped on his own battle armour; it was a modified version of a Sangheili combat harness that he had not worn in two years, not since he had taken over pilot duties on the _Serenity_. Something about the whole place made Alistair uneasy, more than any other Forerunner installation had done in the past.

"Any word from the others yet?" a voice suddenly asked from behind him, making him jump and clutch his chest. He turned to see Call standing there.

"Jesus, Call," he muttered, "you nearly gave me a bloody heart attack! No, I've not heard a peep. It must be nearly an hour since they left."

Call looked over Alistair from top to bottom, noticing how he looked to be expecting a fight. "Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?" she asked.

"If there's one thing I've learned from being part of this crew," said Alistair, "it's that you can never be too careful. Unexpected shit always seems to happen to us. Besides, I can't get Megellan's words out of my head. If a Precursor's got a bad feeling, I'd think you ought to pay attention." He looked out and scanned the horizon again, glancing upwards at the small sun suspended in the middle of the sphere. "Where's Gillian?"

"In the back, last time I checked," said Call. "She's been pretty quiet since we got back. I think we ought to just leave her be."

"Yeah, maybe," replied Alistair. "I just hope she-"

He suddenly stopped. For as he was speaking he saw something form out of thin-air in front of the ship. It started as a small orange dot hovering a few feet above the ground, then became streams of orange light that melded together. Only a second later a Promethean knight was outside, though Alistair wasn't to know what it was. What he was sure of was that the creature was hostile, as he saw it raising an arm with a laser rifle towards them.

"Get down!" he shouted, pushing Call to one side of the cargo bay door while he dived for the other side. A torrent of orange laser fire shot out at the spot where they had been standing not a moment before, leaving blast burns in the ceiling. Alistair pulled out the plasma rifle strapped to his hip and returned fire. Call drew her holstered Carnifex pistol and fired, but she was no sharpshooter, and every time either of them peeked out of their cover more Prometheans seemed to have warped into the area. There were several close calls as the gunfire continued to be exchanged, and neither Alistair nor Call spoke, not least because they would never be heard above the cacophony of the gunfight.

After a couple of minutes in exchanging fire, in which time only maybe two of the crowd of Prometheans had been destroyed, Call looked behind her to see if any of their supply crates had been damaged and find alternative cover. It was then that she saw something that made her blood run cold. For emerging from the door to the common room was Gillian, peering out at the Prometheans, her head darting around to look at every blast of laser fire. To Gillian's eyes, she was witnessing a kaleidoscope of colours, and that combined with the loud noise was too much for her limited sensory perception to process at once. She continued to walk forward, distracted, her face the image of curiosity. The Prometheans seemed more concerned with the immediate threat of Call and Alistair, but several shots came dangerously close to her. Sooner or later she was bound to be cut down by the torrent of fire. In that moment Call made her decision, standing up and beginning to dash back down the cargo bay towards the troubled teenager.

"Gillian, get down!" she shouted, but Gillian paid no attention to her. It was then that she felt the impact of laser fire in her side, and she cried out in pain as the white fluid that formed her blood splashed onto the floor. With a great effort she dived forward, another blast cutting through her left shoulder, and pulled Gillian to the ground, dragging her down behind a crate. Fortunately the teenager seemed to be too distracted by the laser fire to be bothered by her touch. Call moved her fingers around the hole where the laser blast had struck her, down on the right-hand side of her waist. With horror, she realised that she could no longer feel her left arm, and her right leg suddenly felt very stiff. The Prometheans must have severed important motor connections, effectively paralysing her. Though she didn't feel pain as such, she cried out through gritted teeth, knowing that she was a sitting duck for the Prometheans.

Crouched behind the wall, Alistair watched the whole thing with horror, and realised now that he was alone. There were over a dozen Prometheans advancing upon the ship, no doubt preparing to take advantage of the loss of one defender to move in for the kill. As far as Alistair could see, there was only one option. It was certainly suicide, but if he tried, he might at least be able to buy Call enough time to make any quick repairs she needed to. Maybe the others were on their way back and could help. Heck, if he could stop the lightshow for at least a few minutes, Gillian could get her act together and potentially finish the fight by herself. It was then that he made his mind up; for himself, there would be no hope, but if he could just buy some time with his final act of defiance...

Unsheathing his katana and holding tightly onto both it and his rifle, he let out a loud roar and charged out from his cover straight into the mob of Prometheans. Their shielding wasn't designed to resist melee attacks, and so one went down when it was slashed open by the sharp blade. The gargoyle's eyes blazed red; a male gargoyle's eyes usually shone with a white light when their emotions were heightened, but the taint of the Far Realm that resided in Alistair's body made itself manifest in the ruby glow. Though he could feel laser fire pounding his shields, he continued to fight on, cutting down more knights that tried to fight back with their own swords and shooting down others, tearing their shielding apart. The crowd was now beginning to thin out, and for a moment Alistair thought that he might actually survive.

Then he felt a laser blast tear through his waist. It struck him on the left-hand side, and was forceful enough to actually knock him backwards. Letting out a gasp and hearing his heart pounding, he looked through a gap in the crowd of Prometheans and saw what looked like a leader. The secondary arms that grew out of its shoulders were longer, and were joined together by a long sheet of metal like a cloak. The orange light patterns that adorned all of the Prometheans were brighter, stretching along the cloak and onto the helmet like ornate patterns. Its skeletal face leered at Alistair as it lowered what looked like a large silver sniper rifle, the red lights on it pulsing. Alistair struggled for breath, watching this being's subordinates close in.

With a loud cry, he struggled to his feet, swinging his sword and cutting down more of the creatures by slitting their necks. Though he could feel life ebbing away from him he swung again and again, until he felt a second shot tear through him. Gasping for breath, the sound of his own heart getting louder, he dropped his plasma rifle and felt the wound. Blood splashed out of it onto the ground, and Alistair felt his chest getting tighter. The commander of the Prometheans was getting closer, as were its unit. There were now only about four left. He was so close. With one last desperate push he roared in pain and frustration as he attacked the last remaining Prometheans, trying to ignore every impulse his body felt to lay down and die.

As the last of the soldiers faded away, Alistair felt a third shot strike his chest. This one had to have pierced a lung, as he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and breathing was now impossible, his throat filled with the precious fluid. Alistair began to feel his whole body go numb, dropping his sword and collapsing to his knees. He knew that this was the fatal shot; there was no going back now. He had done all that he could; all he could do now was hope that Call, Gillian, or one of the others could finish the job. At least the ship was safe. His vision grew blurred, and he could no longer hear anything. As he kneeled there, feeling every nerve in his body shutting down, he raised his head to get one last look at the commander. It had marched over to him and was now standing over him, raising his rifle and taking aim at his head. One way or the other, Alistair knew that his time had come, but at least he would not give this creature the satisfaction of dying with his head hung low, avoiding its gaze.

He then saw a dark, blurred shape colliding with the creature's back, sending it sprawling into the dust a short distance away. Then he saw no more. As his body fell to the floor, the last traces of his life fading away, his eyes closed and what looked like a smile began to spread across his beak. The last thing he knew was that it was all worth it, that none of it had been in vain.

0

Alan had to fight every feeling of blind panic that threatened to overtake him. As he saw Alistair's body slump over and hit the ground, he was sure that he was too late, but nonetheless he prayed and prayed that he was wrong, that the gargoyle was only exhausted. As he kicked the Promethean commander away, he felt a white-hot rage surging through him, an incomprehensible anger at the thought that the Didact's forces attacked his ship, his crew. Without hesitation, he lunged forward and tackled the commander again, knocking the rifle out of its hands. The creature raised its arm and drew its hard-light sword, forcing Alan to jump back as it slashed at him.

The mutant grabbed the handle of his Technomantic whip and released the cyan plasma line. The pure energy on this weapon crackled and surged as he lashed out with it, striking the Promethean. It used its sword to quickly deflect the second swing of the whip, and it quickly swept in close to Alan and struck his face with its free hand. Seeing stars before his eyes, Alan toppled backwards, hitting the ground hard. He raised his head just in time to see the commander grab its dropped rifle and raise it. He rolled out of the way just as it fired, narrowly missing him and sending up a spray of dust.

Rolling to dodge a second shot, he managed to get close and disarm it again, swinging the whip and ducking and weaving to dodge the commander's own sword swipes. The brutal training regime of the Sangheili warrior came back to him, and it was paying dividends. However, he became distracted when he saw Gillian emerge from the cargo bay and run to Alistair's body. That one moment cost him, as the Promethean punched him again, and this time thrust its sword straight into Alan's midsection. The mutant gasped as he felt the blade go into him, his eyes widening.

It was then that one last, desperate plan to get the Promethean into a prone position occurred to him. He grabbed the soldier's arm and actually thrust the blade deeper into him, to the point where he felt it tear through his back. He let loose a loud, trumpet-like roar, the same call that both Kiryuu and Godzilla used, and though the Promethean tried to wrench its arm free his grip held fast. Raising the whip, he swung it in a wide arc, striking the Promethean's neck and severing the head clean from its shoulders. As its body disintegrated into an orange light, the sword did the same, and Alan fell to his knees. Already he could feel the wound numbing and closing, the pain becoming deadened.

He stayed still for a few moments, watching the wound close and heal without leaving so much as a scar. When he got his breath back and staggered to his feet, he could hear the sounds of approaching footsteps, and turned to see Dorva and Nicole leading the others into the clearing. As he staggered over to Alistair's body he saw Nicole pulling off her helmet, looking aghast. He kneeled down next to Gillian, who had placed her hand over the gargoyle's wound, her eyes wide and her whole body trembling. Alan felt his eyes begin to water, his own breathing becoming sharper, as he felt Alistair's neck. Of course there was no pulse, but he didn't want to believe it. He could not believe that his crewman, his friend, was truly gone.

"Captain..." a deep voice said behind him. Spinning round, Alan saw that it was Megellan, his expression full of nothing but sympathy. At this, Alan's eyes almost bulged out of his head. He staggered to his feet and grabbed the Precursor's shoulders.

"You can bring him back!" he said in a frenzied half-shout. "You can do anything with Technomancy!" When he saw Megellan look away, as if avoiding Alan's gaze, the mutant became more distraught. "You can, can't you?!" he yelled.

Megellan leaned down to touch the feathered ruff of the lion-bird-like gargoyle. He smoothed out the feathers and sighed deeply. For a moment, he concentrated, his ears twitching as if he was listening to something. His eyes seemed to glow a more intense blue as he stared upon the still form of Alistair. Then, at last, he looked back at Alan, his expression resolute. Alan for a moment seemed hopeful that Megellan would be able to bring him back. Then, upon looking into those eyes, Alan's expression darkened as the Precursor shook his head.

"Resurrection is not unheard of," Megellan replied. "But–in this case, She won't let me."

"She?" Alan asked. "Who the fuck is She? The Array? The Array is making the decision for you? Is that it? Fuck the Array and bring him back!"

"Alan!" Megellan called, hearing the grief cracking the captain's voice. "Alan! Listen to me! It was his time."

"You act if there is something out there, like God or something that's dictating our destinies," ranted Alan. "Fuck God then! Bring him back, Megellan!"

"I just can't," he said, bowing his head. "I can't." Megellan sighed. "God doesn't dictate our actions, Alan. We do. Alistair chose this. His Free Will overrides Her actions and he accepted the consequences." He pulled away. "She won't let me because Alistair won't let Her. God doesn't tell us what to do, we tell God what to do. But we cannot rely on God for everything. If we do, we become apathetic, stagnant, unchanging. We don't grow and we don't learn the meaning of what life really is. Free Will is dynamic; it's life, our freedom to choose, our right to do anything that is within our power to do. And, he chose this. It would be wrong to go against his choice and to belittle what he decided to do by bringing him back. If we did, there will be no consequences, no lessons, nothing to learn or gain." Megellan got up off the ground. "That is why She won't let me."

Alan backed away from the Precursor, his eyes closed, forcing back the howl of despair that threatened to escape from him. He stood there, shaking and breathing sharply. He tried to steady himself, but he found that almost impossible. There was still so much about the Array that he did not understand, and what Megellan had said just now made little sense. He felt disgusted at Megellan for refusing to do something that was clearly within his power to do. On the other hand, if it really was Alistair's choice to do this, then how could he go against the wishes of his friend? He felt himself go numb, shaking his head, the feelings of shock, confusion and grief threatening to overwhelm him.

"Shipmaster?" he heard Dorva say in a rather timid tone. "What do we do now?"

The voice seemed to bring Alan slowly back to his senses. He fought against the despair, trying to remember why he had to stay alive, what it was that he had to do. He knew that he couldn't afford to go to pieces now, not while so many lives were depending on him. It was not what Alistair would have wanted. There was an awkward silence as Alan tried to gather his thoughts, and muster up the energy to speak.

"_Alan?"_ a voice with an East Tennesseean accent said through Alan's commlink. _"Alan? Do you copy, kid?"_

After taking a moment to steady his breathing, Alan replied, "I read you, Telek."

"_Lemme guess,"_ said Telek gruffly. _"You're now stuck inside that sphere. I should've known you'd get yourselves into trouble before we had a chance to arrive."_

"Don't start, Telek," snarled Alan, his voice cracking with the grief. "Just don't start. Right now all I want you to do is shut up and listen to what I have to say. We need a way out, and you're gonna help us get it." Ignoring Telek's indignant voice, he turned to Dorva, his reptilian eyes narrowed. "Dorva, do you have a fix on that energy source yet?"

The Sangheili was taken aback by Alan's attitude, not just to himself but to Telek as well. However, at this moment he did not dare raise any protests. He looked down at his own commlink.

"I have it," he said. "I'm painting the target and sending the data to Telek."

"Good," said Alan, before returning to his own commlink. "Telek, we're gonna take the _Serenity_ up soon. When that sphere opens, plug those coordinates with photon torpedoes to disable the gravity well and let us out. After that, I want Onyx destroyed. Not a trace of it is to be left standing. You understand me?"

"_What the hell's gotten into you?"_ barked Telek. _"Who are you to be giving your superior officer orders? What the hell happened down there?!"_

"Will you shut it?!" Alan suddenly yelled. "Right now all you need to know is that there are things here that could kill us all if we let them loose! Now stop asking stupid fucking questions and send this place to Hell!"

Dorva and Nicole looked at each other, mortified. They were convinced that Alan had done it now; there was no way Telek 'Heros would allow such an insolent tone to slide. In his grief, Alan had thrown himself into hot water. They expected Telek to explode in a similar fashion and an argument to take place. However, when Telek responded it was in a low voice, one that somehow sounded even more dangerous than shouting would have.

"_Alright,"_ he said. _"That sun is being prevented from expanding by a pair of stabilisation towers at the poles of the installation. The star's too small to go supernova on its own, but if the towers are destroyed it'll expand, like all gasses want to do. That place will pop like a balloon filled with too much air. Once we're clear, I'll take out the towers and the sun'll do the rest."_ There was a brief pause. _"Just get your ass back on the Shadow of Darkness, and quick. You and I are gonna have a long, frank discussion about your attitude when this is all over."_

With that, he signed off. Alan stood frozen for a moment, trying to process everything he had just said and done. His eyes were closed, and he released a deep sigh as he raised his head again.

"Everybody on board," he said, turning to the others. "Dorva, Nicole," he continued, indicating Alistair's body. "Take him to the infirmary. We may as well see that he gets buried decently back home."

Their faces stricken with grief, Dorva took Alistair's shoulders while Nicole took the legs, and both carried their fallen comrade into the ship. Megellan and Gillian trailed behind them, followed by Blue Team. Mendez stopped in front of Alan, maintaining his professional demeanour.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Captain," he said. "I don't like soldiers dying under my command either." He then followed Blue Team into the ship. Halsey said nothing, but just looked at Alan. It was difficult to tell what her expression was; it was a cross between disappointment and pity. She followed Mendez into the ship, with Alan walking in after her.

Once inside the cargo bay, Alan closed and sealed the doors, while Megellan was hunched over Call, who was still wincing. The Precursor's cords were out, wrapping themselves around her wounds.

"It's nothing too serious," said Megellan gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "A few damaged motors and servos, and you've lost some lubrication fluid, but this should fix you right up." Before everyone's eyes, the holes in Call's mechanical body closed, the leaking fluid shrinking back inside. "There you go. Try moving your limbs now."

Call did some practice shakes with the paralysed limbs. "They're a little stiff," she said, "but at least I can move now. Thanks a lot, Megellan."

"You're quite welcome, my dear," said Megellan, standing up and walking back into the common area. As Call hauled herself to her feet, Gillian approached her.

"Call," she said, pausing a moment and rubbing her shoulder, head tilted slightly as she was not looking the android in the eye. "Thank you for saving my life."

"You're welcome," replied Call, trying to smile, but failing to do so. She approached the stairs back up to the gantries, just as Alan did so. Her knees seemed to buckle when she noticed the hard expression on Alan's face. "I can fly the _Serenity_ up and out of the sphere, if you need me to."

"Do it," was all Alan said firmly. Sighing, Call led the way back up to the cockpit, sitting herself at the pilot's console while Alan sat in the co-pilot's chair. After a few moments the engines sprang into life, and the ship lurched off of the ground. Neither Alan nor Call said anything as they flew back towards the spot where they had entered the sphere.

"You think there's any way to open it from this side?" asked Call, in a rather timid voice.

"We've got Reclaimers on board," replied Alan, in a monotone. "It might react to their presence." Sure enough, after a moment of nothing, the landmasses suddenly started to retract in a star shape. The thick shell of the sphere was exposed, and the stars outside were revealed. At the angle the ship was resting at, they could not see any sign of the Fleet Shadow of Fury.

All at once a pair of bright blue photon torpedoes shot through the hole, speeding towards a point on the other side of the sphere's interior. Call watched her console's monitors intently, watching the fluctuating graphs of the energy readings. There was a beeping noise from the console, and Call nodded in a satisfied manner.

"That's it," she said. "The energy readings from the gravity well are gone. I'm taking us out."

"_Get yer asses to the Shadow, pronto!"_ Telek barked over the comm. channels. _"The rest of the fleet will meet us at the relay! Now move!"_

The ship sped out of Onyx and towards the immense super carrier known as the _Shadow of Darkness_, flagship of the Fleet Shadow of Fury. Call steered the small cargo ship into the immense hangar, which was a cavernous space large enough to fit two UNSC frigates inside. With a soft thud, the ship landed in the cargo bay, and everything trembled as the immense ship turned. Doubtless Telek had already fired more torpedoes to destabilise the sun and was now yelling at his pilots to take the ship to a safe distance. Alan's expression remained blank, but he closed his eyes, trying to picture the explosion in his mind, imagining the expanding of the small sun, seeing the metallic sphere blasting apart from within, scattering its pieces, and its monstrous occupants, to the far reaches of the galaxy. With Onyx destroyed, he knew that those responsible for Alistair's death could never endanger the galaxy again. Justice had been served, but Alan still felt hollow. The loss of his friend had left a hole that he wasn't sure he could fill.

"I'll..." Call squeaked, rising from her chair. "I'll tell the others you don't want to be disturbed."

Alan didn't respond, but he heard Call leave the room and close the door behind her. He sat there for a moment in silence, then he leaned forward, burying his face in his arms and leaning on the console, finally releasing the tears that had been threatening to escape.

0

Shepard kept thinking over and over that, by rights, she should be dead. She remembered seeing the monstrous Human Reaper rising from the depths, firing its apparently fully-developed laser weaponry at the group. It had been a brutal fight, but some well-placed shots into the monster's core had shattered it. She did not doubt that, had the Reaper being completed, there would have been no way to have defeated it with their firepower alone. In its death throes, its metallic body consumed by fire, it had tried to smash the platforms, in an attempt to take them with it. The platforms had bucked and tipped, almost throwing the group off. Everything had been thrown into disarray. The explosion had knocked the platforms loose, sending them downwards, and two of them had collided.

That had been the last Shepard had known for a full minute. When she awakened, she could not believe her good fortune. The platform she and the others had been standing on had smashed into a wall, breaking it open and revealing a tunnel. She also felt a huge weight pressing down on her, but fortunately this piece of debris was not heavy enough to completely pin her down. Grunting and straining, she pushed the metal beam off her and staggered to her feet. Looking around her, she saw Tali laying still on the platform. Fearing the worst, she rolled the Quarian over until she faced the ceiling, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the pearl-white eyes flickering open behind her visor. Helping her to her feet, the two of them heard a grunting noise coming from close by. It was Miranda, pinned under another piece of debris and struggling to push it off. Shepard and Tali moved over to help her, lifting and sliding the wrecked metal off her.

"_Do you copy?!"_ came Joker's panicked voice via the commlink as Shepard pulled Miranda to her feet. _"Commander?! Come on, Shepard, don't leave me hanging! Do you copy?!"_

"I'm here, Joker," said Shepard, her eyes now refocusing as she led the group down the tunnel. "Did the ground team make it?"

"_Everybody's on board,"_ said Joker. _"We're just waiting on you."_

All of a sudden dark clouds formed behind the group. It was more Seeker swarms forming, trying to block the exit. Upon seeing this, Shepard, Miranda and Tali ran for their lives as the swarm thickened, firing pot-shots behind them to try to scatter the swarms. As they ran down the misty passages, past the stalagmite-like chitin formations, Shepard heard a deep, mocking voice in her mind, a voice she knew all too well as that of the creator of the Reapers.

"_Shepard,"_ King Ghidorah was saying to her, _"you have changed nothing. Your species long ago attracted the attention of those infinitely your greater. All you have done this day is delay the inevitable. I am a monument to your sins, and I am your salvation through destruction. I will find another way."_

Glancing down another passage, Shepard saw bands of Collector drones moving in to try to intercept the team. Laser fire chased them down the passage as it opened out into the large central chamber. The group was running towards a dead end, as the platform stopped before the gaping abyss below. However, in front of their eyes, the _Normandy_ was rising up from the pit, hovering in front of the platform. The airlock door in the side opened, and Joker emerged from it, armed with an assault rifle, his teeth gritted as he opened fire on the approaching Collectors.

Miranda and Tali were ahead of Shepard, so they reached the ship first, leaping into the airlock. Suddenly a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling as the base crumbled around them, smashing through the platforms nearest the ship and sending them into oblivion. A sizeable gap now remained between the _Normandy_ and the ledge, and Joker watched in horror as Shepard ran to the ledge, every muscle in her body on fire. There was only one course of action open to her, and she took it.

With a tremendous effort, she leaped from the ledge, her arms flailing as she sailed over the fifteen-foot gap. She fell just short, grabbing onto the bottom of the airlock, desperately clinging on for dear life. She was struggling to pull herself up, but Miranda and Tali ran forward and grabbed her arms, pulling her in just as a volley of laser fire from the Collectors spewed out, narrowly missing her. With everyone safely on board, the airlock door slid shut, and the ship banked hard. Joker and Shepard hobbled into the cockpit, the pilot returning to his seat as EDI guided the _Normandy_ at top speed towards the abandoned docking bay.

"_Detonation in ten, nine, eight-"_ EDI was saying.

"Yeah, I get the gist, EDI!" shouted Joker, his hands seeming to fly over the controls. "Hold on!"

Within seconds, the ship had blasted out of the docking bay, and sped back towards the relay as quickly as the engines would allow. Behind them, the base became engulfed in flames as pieces of it blasted off, the explosions ravaging the base and all the surviving Collectors inside. Finally, the base erupted, engulfing the area in a huge fireball which chased the _Normandy_ as it sped away through the ship graveyard. It dissipated as the ship reached the relay back to the Omega Nebula, blasting through it and leaving the nightmare of the Collectors far behind.


	23. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Softly into the Night**

It was very rare indeed that the Illusive Man felt angry. Emotions got in the way of logical decision-making, and that was something he could not afford, not when so much was riding on those decisions. However, now he felt angry. He was angry that all those months of planning, all those efforts to get their hands on Collector technology to study it, were for nothing. He was angry that one naïve fool of a woman had undermined him, not only ruining his chances to get his hands on that technology, but somehow turning his own people against him, including an AI that was supposed to be shackled. It felt as if this woman, Shepard, was now adding insult to injury. Had that been her plan all along? He knew that they had disagreed about his methods, but right at the crucial moment he never thought even she could be so near-sighted.

He sat in the dim coolness of his immense office, the only lighting coming from the dying star visible in the window behind him. As he stubbed out his cigarette, he saw the holographic communicator flicker into life, an image of Shepard appearing before him. It flickered constantly, and the Illusive Man wondered how much damage the _Normandy_ had sustained. He returned his gaze to the holographic display, giving Shepard a cold stare and being met with a cold stare in return.

"Shepard," he said, "you're making a habit of costing me more than time and money."

"Too many lives were lost at that base," spat Shepard. "I'm not sorry it's gone."

"The first of many lives," the Illusive Man retorted. "The technology from that base could have secured human dominance in the galaxy, against the Reapers and beyond."

"Human dominance?" asked Shepard, leaning forward. "Or just Cerberus?"

"Strength for Cerberus is strength for every human," said the Illusive Man, standing up out of his chair and walking towards Shepard. "Cerberus _is_ Humanity. I should've known you'd choke on the hard decisions, too idealistic from the start!" He waved his arm dismissively as Shepard folded her arms.

"I'm not looking for your approval," she said, coldly and firmly. "King Ghidorah is coming, and he won't be alone. Humanity needs a leader who's looking out for them." She unfolded her arms and pointed at her chest. "From now on, I'm doing things my way, whether you agree or not." The Illusive Man stopped just in front of her, within choking distance had they been in the same room, his brow furrowed, his muscles tensing and the glow from his eye implants seeming to become more intense in the darkness.

"Don't turn your back on me, Shepard!" he snarled. "I made you! I brought you back from the dead!" Shepard just looked above her, apparently no longer listening to the Illusive Man and addressing the intercom.

"Joker," she said, a wave of calm washing over her face. "Lose this channel."

She then turned to walk away from the communicator, turning her back to the Illusive Man. As the figure flickered and faded away, she shot one last smirk at the Illusive Man before blinking out of existence. That told the Illusive Man all he needed to know; their partnership was over. He could never count on her help again. He walked back to his chair and sat down, turning it to gaze out of the window, lighting another cigarette.

She was blind. He knew that now. Blind and hopelessly naïve, just like all of them in the United Nations Space Command. They had no idea what it was they were up against. They were not prepared to make the hard decisions, to do what was necessary to safeguard the future of the human race. Humanity's safety had been at the forefront of his mind ever since that incident twenty years ago; it was why he had persuaded the UNSC to set up Cerberus in the first place and appoint him as its leader. They were the group that was prepared to do what the UNSC wasn't to keep humanity safe. He knew that he had defected at the right time, after years of planning and gathering of resources to allow Cerberus to operate independently, for now the UNSC had grown soft, so desperate to appease the outsiders to whom the human race owed nothing. Their weapons were now morals and ethics, two things which were absolutely no use in the war they faced. He understood that, even if they didn't. Cerberus was the only thing left with humanity's best interests at heart, and no-one had any idea about the sacrifices, the hard choices he had had to make and would have to continue to make to pursue that ideal.

He took a drag from his cigarette, returning his mind to the tasks at hand. They still had a copy of the Reaper IFF, and he was thankful that they had gained that before EDI had been unshackled and given a reason not to send anything to him. His own ships could get safely through the Omega 4 Relay. There had to be something there worth salvaging, any wreckage from the Collector Base that could still be studied, perhaps even parts of that Human Reaper. The insight such study would give them would be invaluable to what he saw as the only way to put an end to the threat of King Ghidorah and his Reaper spawn for good. While they were at it, all attempts had to be made to locate the _Normandy_ and recover it. The ship was technically their property, so they had to reclaim it.

The war against the Reapers was coming, and he had every intention of fighting it, by any means necessary.

0

It was a few minutes before Alan felt calm enough to exit the cockpit of the _Serenity_. His mood was still low, but the anger he had felt before had subsided. Now all he felt was a form of depression, his mind no longer able to deny that Alistair was truly gone. Figuring that a walk might help him clear his head, he stepped out of the cockpit and walked down the passage past the crew cabins. He could hear no sounds coming from inside the ship itself; all that could be heard were the sounds of Telek's crew working in the hangar. The mood on the _Serenity_ was very dark and sombre, as if the ship was directly reflecting Alan's own state of mind.

Stepping down into the gantries above the cargo bay, he saw that the door had been opened and some of the Spartans were now out in the hangar, stretching their legs, their helmets removed. Their training was supposed to prevent overt displays of emotion, but Kelly at least looked very relieved to be away from Onyx. Mendez and Halsey stood at the end of the ramp, debating some issue or another while occasionally looking around at all the Sangheili and Lekgolo performing their various tasks. Halsey had received some treatment at the infirmary and was now standing straighter, apparently no worse for wear from her encounter with the Didact. The Huragoks floated a short distance away, apparently deeply engaged in conversation.

Stepping downstairs and glancing into the common area, Alan saw the rest of the _Serenity_ crew. All of them were quiet, hardly speaking a word to each other. They were all in various states of shock and mourning over the loss of their friend. Alistair's body had been placed in the infirmary, and in spite of the visible, fatal injuries on his chest he looked strangely peaceful. Call, Dorva and Nicole were all stood just outside the infirmary, silently paying their respects, while Gillian seemed to be maintaining a constant vigil beside him, as if she felt it was her duty to keep him safe during transport. It was the biggest display of emotion that any of them had seen from her, and Alan wondered if she understood why Alistair had given his life the way he had. There was no sign of Megellan amongst them, so Alan assumed that he had gone back to his cabin. None of the crew noticed him as he stepped back into the cargo bay, which Alan felt was for the best; he didn't feel ready to face them yet, not after his shocking behaviour to them.

Speaking of which, he thought back to the incident on Onyx, and now that his mind had cleared slightly he knew Telek hadn't deserved to be yelled at. No other action had made sense at the time due to the circumstances, but now that the dust had settled he knew that he owed the Sangheili an apology. He sat himself down on a crate close by the door, looking morose as he watched the crew of the _Shadow of Darkness_ at work. Presently, he saw Telek himself enter, and hung his head, wondering what he was going to say to make him understand.

The Sangheili Supreme Commander strode in, his head held high, the blue lights along the iridescent blue and purple walls playing off his golden armour. He entered the cargo bay, seeing the docked Serenity and he could feel the sombre mood. Prior to the _Serenity_ docking with his ship, Nicole had contacted him, telling him what happened to Alistair and explaining Alan's own actions. He knew the pain of losing comrades in battle, one particular he blamed himself for; Tekn 'Morudee, a long time friend, one who followed Telek since his band defected from the Covenant. He pulled out a data touchpad and swiped his thumb over it. An image of a Sangheili warrior in black and gold trimmed armour appeared upon the screen. Standing beside him were Tom and Telek, with Telek dressed in paler gold than it was now, and with black trimming. Right above them was the bottom of the nigh-untouchable _Shade of Darkness_, Telek's old Assault Carrier. Telek recalled the date of the anniversary of the destruction of his beloved _Shade_ and the death of Tekn and many of his crew was coming up in a few weeks. The big Elite took in a deep breath, staring at the picture, longing to be back there. They were on shore leave in that picture, and Telek went to Mars to meet Tom's mother for the first time. He recalled the ruckus he caused anchoring the ship near the small town and Mrs. Jimenez chasing both him and Tekn up and down with a broom after Tom told her they were space pirates. Telek's lips curled into a smile as he thought of those happy memories. Then, he got out the old tin canister from his belt pouch and opened it, taking a ship.

"I see some things haven't changed," began an icy voice from the side of him. Telek's lips curled into a sneer and he took in a deep breath. He turned and smiled as pleasantly as he could, his back straight, his shoulders back and his huge chest out.

"Catherine!" he said. "Lovely to see you. I see Erin patched you up nicely."

"Yes, I do have to commend him on the improvement of his knowledge of human anatomy," said Dr. Catherine Halsey.

"Erin would be pleased," said Telek, being as polite and courteous as he could to the woman he truly never showed any liking to. He loved Jacob, he loved Miranda, but he hated Catherine. Telek scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, I was hopin' to talk to you, kitten. If you don't mind a little chit-chat." He placed the tin away and ushered her to a wall. "Now that you are on my ship, I want to lay down some rules."

"Please, Telek," began Halsey. "I don't need any of your drunken badgering."

"For starters, I haven't had a stiff drink in seven years," said Telek.

"What's in the tin?"

Telek pulled the tin out and unscrewed the top.

"It's non-alcoholic apple cider," said Telek. He handed it to her and she took a sniff. She could smell the spiced apple in the drink, but no sour smell of alcohol.

"What brought this on?" she asked, handing him back his tin.

"Erin," said Telek. "When he looked at my pickled liver."

Catherine's lip corner curled and for a moment, Telek thought there was a smile on her stony face. Telek sipped at the tin again.

"What do you need, Admiral?" Halsey asked.

"I need you to show a little courtesy for the people who saved your life and your Spartans' lives today," Telek said. "None of this high and mighty shit you like to pull."

"I don't see why that is neither here nor there, Admiral."

Telek huffed, his crystal blue eyes narrowed at her as his upper right mandible twitched.

"Just leave them alone," said the Sangheili commander.

"Or what?" asked Halsey. "You tell on me to Kiryuu?" She cocked her eyebrow and leaned back, crossing her arms. "From what I heard, he's not the President of the UNSC anymore."

"Listen, kitten," Telek began. "No one gives a rat's ass about you or your obsolete science project. The Covenant War is over. The Galaxy doesn't take too kindly to child-nappers who place them under mental and physical abuse just because your wrinkled cunt dried up years ago."

Halsey's face contorted and she raised her hand to slap him. Telek caught her hand in his just before she made contact. He pulled her close to him, stretching her to meet him eye-to-eye.

"Another thing, kitten," he said, his deep voice sounding like a big panther purring. "Alan Tyler. Don't. Touch. Him."

"Why?" she asked. "What is he?"

"None of your fuckin' business," he replied, letting go of her hand. "Just stay away from him. And if you have to talk to him, show him some respect. The kid saved your worthless life. I'm surprised he didn't just leave you behind to be blown up with the rest of them."

He leaned away and slowly lumbered towards the _Serenity_. He paused and slightly turned to her.

"And another thing, Kit-Kat," Telek began. "Don't ever try to slap me again."

Catherine's eyes narrowed at the big Elite dangerously. Telek passed several of the Spartans. Kelly and Mendez both gave a nod to him.

"Never thought I'd see that ugly mug of yours again, Admiral," said Kelly.

"Maybe that's why I'm so hard to kill off," said Telek. He nodded to Mendez.

"Admiral," said Mendez.

"If y'all need a shower," Telek began. "Down the hall and to the left."

"Much appreciated, sir," said Mendez.

Telek sniffed and walked on, coming closer to the _Serenity_. He could hear Kelly make one final comment.

"How did he get that accent anyways? He sounds like he's from the Deep South. And I do mean the Deep South. Banjos and cow-pie Deep South."

"I can still hear you, Kelly," said Telek.

"Sorry, sir," she said.

"You wanna hear how much of a Southerner I am?" Telek asked. "Maybe ole Telek will just do a square dance right 'n front of yah. We'll have a Ho-Down. I'm sure Nicole's got some purdy dresses you can get in, sugar."

Kelly shrank back, not exactly enjoying that idea: "No thank you, Admiral."

"Just keep that in mind." Telek said as he turned again. He saw Alan there, sitting on a crate with Megellan talking with him. The Precursor seemed rather happy despite the sombre mood most of the crew were in. Then, when the strange green dragon-wolf was finished with whatever it was he said to Alan, he got up and came walking quickly towards Telek. The Sangheili huffed as the Kethosian walked up to him, a large grin upon his face.

"Ah, Supreme Commander Telek 'Heros," he began. "At last we meet." Megellan looked around, admiring the cargo bay's structure. "This is quite a ship you have here."

"Thank you," said Telek.

"Though I do see much of the Usurpers' influence in its technical make-up, however, the architectural work is not theirs," Megellan continued, scanning the intricate designs of the ceiling. "But I see something of my people's influence in this ship. The repeating pattern of the circle within a circle. That is the symbol of my people. And I see it everywhere here."

"We got that from the Forerunners," said Telek. "They had it everywhere in their structures too. We just revered them so much we had to put what they had in our designs. Not that I revere them now."

"Of course not," said Megellan. "You must give me a tour of your ship. I would love to look at the engine room, see what power you use."

"A tour of the _Shadow of Darkness_, huh?" Telek asked. "I think that can be arranged."

"Perhaps at a more opportune time, then," said Megellan.

"Why not now?" Telek asked. He stuck his gloved fingers in his mandibles and released a shrill whistle. By his command, a Huragok wearing pouches strapped around what could be considered its waist floated down. The creature whistled and hummed, greeting Telek.

"Swifty, could you show the Commissioner here Engineering?" Telek asked.

Swifty whistled and wiggled his tentacles.

"Don't worry, he won't be touchin' any of your settings, I know how you like them." Telek turned to Megellan. "Yeah, don't touch anything. No tweakin' anything, thinking you could make it better, or any unnecessary upgrades. And keep those glowing cords off the panelling too."

Megellan took hold of his ghostly cords as if they were tangible and easy for him to grab. He held them close and nodded.

"I will be on my best behaviour," he said. "Thank you."

As the Precursor turned to leave, Telek took in a deep breath and sighed.

"At least it'll keep that weirdo busy," he said under his breath.

Telek finally came to Alan, who still stared out blankly. Whatever it was that Megellan told him, it did nothing to change his mood. Alan looked up at Telek and swallowed. He got off the crate.

"Telek," he began. "I–"

"You don't need to say anything," said Telek sternly. "But I want to talk to you for a moment."

Alan lowered his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes.

"You ain't in trouble, boy," said Telek. "Come on, let's just–go inside the _Serenity_ where we can have a little private chat."

Alan slid off the crate and followed the Sangheili into the _Serenity_. The two walked quietly, neither saying anything as Telek led Alan up to the bridge. And once they came to the bridge, Telek settled himself down on one of the chairs and watched Alan sit in the other. Alan stared down upon his boots. Telek scooted and brought out the touchpad again, pulling up the picture of Tekn, Tom and himself on Mars. He handed the image to Alan and smiled slightly.

"One of the few times I was ever really happy," said Telek.

"I recognise you and Tom," began Alan. "You're wearing different armour."

"That was when I was Fleet Master Telek Nar 'Herosee," Telek began. "Well, in the UNSC, I was just Captain Telek 'Herosee. And that beauty in the back was my baby, the _Shade of Darkness_."

"The _Shade of Darkness_?" asked Alan. "I never knew you had a ship before the _Shadow_." He pointed at the figure he didn't recognise in the photograph. "Who's he? The one in the black armour?"

"That is Tekn 'Morudee," Telek began. "Unfortunately he died before we Sangheili dropped the double 'e' suffix to our surnames." Telek frowned, his head bowing. There was a pained expression in his eyes. "It's been seven years since that moment, Alan; nearly seven years to the day since I lost the _Shade of Darkness_, when I had to blow her up when Flood infected her, my crew, and–Tekn." He leaned back. "We were on our way to Sanghelios. We had just picked up that gecko Manda. He was the one who had the information on the Ark and I was going to deliver that information to Sanghelios in order to bring them into the war–on the right side." He took in a deep breath and heaved a sigh. "Tekn took the wheel while Tom, me, Ace, and Manda, Flynn, a medic I had borrowed from Miranda Keyes while she had Erin, and 343 Guilty Spark all talked about the Forerunners, what we discovered about them from what little information we had and what the Ark was. That's when it happened. I got the alert that Flood managed to get on my ship. I don't know how it happened, how the hell that bastard King Ghidorah snuck himself onto my ship. I thought she was uncatchable, that no one could touch her, not even the Flood. I was wrong."

Telek closed his eyes as he remembered the sirens going off in the _Shade of Darkness_, the chaos of everyone firing upon the Flood.

"I ordered everyone to evacuate the ship," he continued. "We dropped out of slip-space, a hundred parsecs from anything, friendly or unfriendly. Out in the middle of bum-fucked nowhere with Flood crawling through the ducts. I ushered Tom, Manda, Ace, and Spark out and we hurried ourselves towards the bridge. Tekn and I went to start the countdown to scuttle the ship. And once we started it up, we just booked it." Telek sniffed. "There was no thought on what I was doing, whether or not it was right. Destroying my own ship was the only thing to do. I couldn't let the Flood take her and use her for their disgusting needs. Tekn had dropped behind, covering us as we made our way to a Phantom. As soon as those who were with me were on, I called out to Tekn to hurry his ass up. An Infection Pod got him, buried itself into his chest. Already, he started to change and I just stood there, looking on in horror. Normally I would just kill it the moment a person changed, but this was Tekn. I froze. I actually froze. The kid had been with me since I defected, he saved my ass from jail, from nearly being executed for tellin' people the truth about the Halos." Telek's eyes seemed to water as he continued, his voice cracking. "He stayed with me–until the end. They all did. It was just my ship, not Cujo's, not Mitsu's, not Tulsa's. Just mine. I flashed back, seeing Big Tulsa 'Yuromee sacrifice himself, his ship, his crew to save our asses, now here was Tekn doing the same. His neck broken, pushed to his back, those pink feelers growing out of a hole in his throat. That bastard King Ghidorah took him."

He paused, his lips curled, showing off his fangs. Telek's fist curled tightly.

"He was coming for us," Telek said. "Tom got out a shotgun and shot him. He had no choice, he had to shoot Tekn. Tom and Tekn, over the five years we've been together, they grew kinda close. Tom was assigned to my ship to learn how to operate a Covenant vessel. Well, thing is though, he's so damned short!" He bit his lip, trying to hold back a sob. "Tom couldn't reach the buttons on the _Shade_'s bridge. So, Tekn had to push many of them for him. And Tom shot him. He looked at me like he did the most horrible thing in his life. He thought I was going to break him in half, but I didn't. That thing wasn't Tekn anymore. It tried to get up and I charged for it, letting go every inhibition. I rammed my sword right into its gut. Then, we all got into the Phantom and took off. The _Shade of Darkness_ blew up, scraps of it flying everywhere. And I just stared, numb. Human crew, Covenant defector crew, all of them were gone. And we floated out there in the wreckage and burnt Flood bodies. Then, in a few days, we were picked up by a Covenant Carrier–well, we thought it was. It was the ship of my old friend Xytan, the Imperial Admiral. He had defected and he brought us on board, nursed our wounds and brought us safely to Sanghelios. But there was a hole in my heart. Tom thought I was pissed because I lost my ship, but no, it wasn't the ship. It was the crew. It was Tekn and all the others. Five years livin' with each other, we had a system built up, humans and Sangheili, Unggoy, Lekgolo, we were brothers in arms." Telek finally let loose a sob. "And it all blew up in our face. King Ghidorah waited till we got out into the middle of nowhere and he struck." He closed his eyes again.

"You want to know why I get mad so much? Why I freaked out when that Reaper tore through the _Shadow_ and took the lives of Davis, Wago, and Mitsu? It's because when you're the leader, you make a promise, a hard promise. You promise that you would never let anyone get harmed under your command. I promised I wouldn't let them die. Not Jacob, nor Miranda, nor Wago, nor Tulsa, nor Davis, and not Tekn. But you know what, Alan? You can't keep that promise. I can't keep that promise and I get so pissed off at the people who make me break that promise by killin' them. And I want to hurt that person so much. Because I promised. I promised." He barred his fangs. "At least the one who made you break your promise is dead. Mine's still floatin' out there. He made me break my promise and I'm gonna make him hurt for it. He took Tekn away, he took Jacob away, he took Davis and he took Wago, and he took Mitsu. The Prophet of Truth took Miranda away." Telek growled. "I smashed his head in. One down." His eyes locked upon Alan's golden ones. "One to go." He rose up. "A promise is a promise, Alan, but there are some promises that are nearly impossible to keep no matter how hard you try." Telek sniffed as a tear dropped, trailing down his cheek. "But you keep making that promise no matter what. You tell yourself every day: 'they are my responsibility and I will never let them down.' You and I may not like each other very much, but if you ever are killed under my command, I will hunt the shit-head down until I've broken every bone in his body for making me break my promise to keep you safe."

He wiped his eyes and patted the back of Alan's chair.

"Oh, I told Catherine Halsey to watch herself around you," said Telek. "I didn't tell her what you were or who you were related to, but I did say to keep off of yah. If she ever talks back to you or even looks at you the wrong way, you tell me. Understand?"

"Yeah," said Alan. He looked up at the big Elite who was slightly hunched over from the low ceiling of the bridge on the _Serenity_. "Thanks, Telek."

"Sure," he said. "I better go find Megellan. I let Swifty escort him around the ship so I could keep him a little busy while I talk to you. That guy just creeps me out. I don't care if he's a Precursor or not. He is the strangest man I've ever met. I better make sure he's not trying to see if he can upgrade the 'brakes' on my ship so it'll stop on a dime or somethin'."

Telek slowly walked off the bridge, leaving Alan to his thoughts. He closed his eyes and released a sigh. Telek had never told him about Tekn before, at least not in so much detail. Seeing the look on Telek's face as he recounted his tale, the mutant felt that he had seen a perfect reflection of his own grief. As he breathed deeply, he thought about everyone he knew who had lost their lives in this battle that had lasted for many millennia, and wondered if he or anyone under his command would live to see the end of that fight.

It was then that he heard a beeping noise coming from his commlink. He raised it to find that he had received a message from none other than Commander Shepard. In all the excitement and chaos surrounding the discovery of Megellan and the battle on Onyx, he had forgotten about Shepard's mission to stop the Collectors. He wondered if the Didact had been aware that his people had become servants of the very things they had tried to fight. He read the message, which had several files attached. When he read what Shepard had learned, and saw what she had seen, he could scarcely believe his eyes.

"What the..." he breathed. If all of this was true, then it was too big to ignore. He quickly pressed some buttons on his commlink and passed the message on to Kiryuu back on Earth. He then stepped out of the bridge and headed down towards the common room. He couldn't explain it, but seeing Shepard's information had somehow brought his brain back into action, reminded him of what he and many others were up against. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs outside the engine room and stepping into the common room, he found the rest of the crew waiting for him. As he approached them, he saw all their heads turn to him, concern on every one of their faces. He stopped just in front of them, wondering what they had all been saying about him. No doubt they were worried about him, especially after the way he had acted on Onyx.

"Shipmaster..." said Dorva, looking anxious. Gillian stepped out of the infirmary and stood between Call and Nicole, also looking at Alan, making him feel as if he was being silently judged.

"I..." Alan began, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what to say other than 'sorry'. I shouldn't have lost control the way I did back there, and I should never have taken it out on you guys."

"You don't need to apologise, Alan," said Nicole. "Believe me; we all felt the same way. You're the only person I know who would say it, though. You've always spoken what's on your mind."

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Alan, bringing up his commlink. "I came to tell you that I've just been contacted by Shepard. She found the Collectors' base, and you're not gonna believe what was inside." He brought up his Omni-Tool and had it project the images he had seen earlier onto a holographic display, floating just above the tool. The others leaned in for a closer look, and their faces became full of shock and revulsion.

"My God..." Nicole breathed. "What the hell is that?!"

"A Human Reaper," said Alan, his face grave. "That's what the Collectors wanted with Humanity; they ground the colonists down and turned them into that thing."

"But why?" asked Call.

"I have a theory," said Alan after a brief pause, "and I don't like what I'm coming up with. Shepard destroyed it and the base, but not before the Illusive Man made it clear that he wanted it all for himself. He seems to think that studying anything related to King Ghidorah is the only way to find a way to beat him."

"He must be crazy to think he can turn the Hydra against himself," muttered Dorva, scowling. "The Forerunners tried that, and we know how well that turned out for them."

"Exactly," said Alan, lowering his commlink as the images flickered and faded. "If there's one thing I've learned in all the time I've fought that monster, it's that trying to do what the Illusive Man's trying to do always ends up biting you on the arse."

"What's Shepard doing now?" asked Call.

"She's on the run," said Alan. "Cerberus of course will be after her for her little stunt, but that isn't all. We all know the UNSC will want a word with her for working with Cerberus, and no doubt take the _Normandy_ away and put her crew under arrest. Then there's the small matter of the Cerberus-made AI with Reaper code that they'll want to dissect, for lack of a better word. Shepard's decided that she could do more good on her own, out there and not in custody when the Reapers arrive."

"So what do we do now?" asked Nicole. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Alan paused, holding a hand up to his chin. With everything that he had learned, remembering everything that he had been told, he felt as if he was drawing strength from it, once again seeing why he continued to fight, and why he always would do so.

"First of all," he said, looking at Alistair's body in the infirmary, "we'll take Alistair home, and drop off our guests while we're at it."

"After that?" asked Call.

"We keep doing what we've always done," said Alan, his claw clenched and a determined gleam in his eyes. "We keep fighting the good fight; we keep looking for Cerberus, and keep looking for ways to stop the Reapers. It's what Alistair would have wanted. We owe it to him, and to Bishop, and everyone else who has ever fought against King Ghidorah. We keep going from where they left off, and we find a way." He sighed. "You all know the stakes, and the risk. You all know the scale of this war and what kind of enemy we're up against. You know that we've lost good friends on the way, and I honestly can't promise any of us will survive this. I intend to keep fighting, though. As long as even one of us is still standing, then he'll never be allowed to win." He looked around into everyone's faces, seeing in their eyes the same kind of apprehension that would halt his progress. "If any of you see a life beyond this fight for yourselves, another reason to keep living, then you're free to go and live your lives away from all this, with no hard feelings."

Everyone looked at Alan and at each other. After what had happened to Alistair, Alan would not have blamed any one of them for deciding to call it quits and get out while they could. If there was any justice in the world, nobody would have to face something like the Golden Hydra Demon. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it, but all he knew was that he was fighting so that nobody else would ever have to face a nightmare like that again.

Then Gillian pushed her way in front of Nicole and Call, looking at Alan with those same eyes, the ones that seemed to be able to peer into the depths of someone's soul. Then she did something none of them expected; she raised her arm and held her hand out in front of her, as if she wanted to form a gesture of unity. Looking surprised, Alan extended his claw, letting it hover over her delicate-looking hand.

"You don't mind, do you?" asked Alan, deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, knowing how sensitive Gillian was to being touched.

"Of course not, Captain," was Gillian's reply. The girl even managed to smile as Alan gently rested his claw on her hand. Alan couldn't help smiling himself, taken aback by this gesture, from the girl least likely to show it. He then felt another hand rest firmly on top of his own claw, and saw that it was Nicole's.

"You're not getting rid of us that easily, Alan," she said, grinning. Dorva too placed his hand on the pile.

"We have come too far to run away now," the Sangheili said. "I spent so much time running, but not any more." The last hand was Call's, and Alan wondered if she was afraid that her small hand would get crushed under everyone else's. She didn't say anything, just looked at Alan with those big brown eyes of her and smiled.

It was then that Alan saw the fine cyan Technomantic cords, slowly draping themselves over the pile of hands. The cords felt warm to the touch, and Alan felt a sudden surge of well-being coursing through him; it was as if, while those cords were in place, nothing could go wrong. Everyone turned and saw Megellan standing in the doorway to the cargo bay, the cords flowing out of his head and a warm smile on his face.

"I understand that you are in need of a pilot or an engineer," he said. "I can fill either position, if you will accept me."

"Fine by me, mate," said Alan, now smiling broadly. He felt an inexpressible rush of gratitude to everyone in the ship, his crew, his friends. In this moment, they were all bound together, to the fight and to each other. They would all continue the fight, together with Shepard and anyone else who wanted in. They knew that Alistair, Bishop, Wago, Mitsu, Tekn, and everyone else who had fought and died in this war would want nothing less.

0

_They were so close. The Milky Way galaxy filled his vision and that of his innumerable children. The journey had been long with the loss of the Citadel Relay, but they had the strength to overcome it, as they had the strength to overcome anything that tried to stop the Cycle. Now, within a few short months, that journey would come to an end._

_Soon, they would arrive._

**THE END**


End file.
